


Change is Inevitable

by these_words



Series: Changes [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, Multiple Crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 133,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/these_words/pseuds/these_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is on Midgard searching for something.  He needs a guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Call

Faith stared out the pill-shaped window at the crumbling sidewalk and the battered blacktop of a two-lane highway. She watched the desert's morning rush through the narrow oval, nearly one car every ten minutes. Her working night had ended hours ago, but she never needed much sleep. She had returned from patrolling the desert on the little Honda, which really meant she stopped to gaze at the stars and listen to coyotes. She had no idea why she was still in Little Cruci.

With nothing better to do until she got bored enough to go up to her room, Faith drank the restaurant's decent coffee and caught up on local gossip with Manny, the kid who worked at the garage down the block. Manny put a glob of salsa on his beans and scooped them into his mouth with a tortilla while he chattered on about the high school dropouts he hung with. Outside the window, the morning insects were whirring with excitement, psyching themselves up for the daily assault on the cantina.

A long shadow fell over the window. A heartbeat later, the heavy padded door swung open as if it was newsprint blowing in the wind. Faith could hear the insect hum and the crunch of wheels on asphalt.

A tall man strode with definite swagger into the cantina, his long legs bringing him to the middle of the room. He wore a dark suit with a long coat that was cut close to his body and shiny dress boots under tailored pants -- totally wrong for the heat and dust of a desert town. His black hair was plastered back from his face, and it fell past his shoulders. He was on the thin side, sharp angles everywhere, but not at all bad looking. Still, with the sleek jacket that stopped just below his knees, he looked like he should be conducting an orchestra, or maybe a funeral service.

"Someone die?" Faith asked Manny, indicating the stranger with her eyes.

Manny looked over at the man, then shrugged. "Not that I heard."

The man drifted towards the air conditioning, then looked around the bar, his eyes alight with merriment, taking in the whole scene. Faith couldn't say what made him so happy. The place was always dingy, a seedy dive where dead ends came to cheer up and bus passengers came to gulp down a quick meal. It had a collection of tiny tables covered with ovals of nicked plastic. The few booths along the walls had vinyl bench seats. There was some kind of tropical fruit theme. The tiny frog bands on shelves and tattered skeletons hanging from the ceiling were a pain to keep clean and got in her way. They were there for the tourists. Maybe he was a tourist, overjoyed to see what he thought was authentic old Mexico, even though both Luisa and Juan had been born and raised right there in the U.S.

When his eyes fell on Faith's gloomy booth by the window, the stranger puffed up as though he owned the place and the staff was holding his homecoming. His face wore a confident smile which widened into something dangerous and slanted.

He glided to the table and looked down at Faith and Manny. Despite the impressive way he carried himself, she almost laughed. Manny gawped with his mouth open.

She smiled confidently and told him right out, "Hope you're not hungry, 'cause we're closed."

"And if I am hungry?"

"Place opens in an hour."

His eyes flicked over her face in amusement. "You're Faith Lehane," he notified her. She had given the name "Faye Laney" to Luisa.

"You think?" she said with a brazen smile.

He nodded and, with a smirk and a smooth voice, said, "I know."

"Kinda doubt you do."

Grabbing a nearby chair, he asked, "May I join you?"

Manny said, "Sure," before Faith had a chance to object. The man squinted at Manny as if he just noticed an ant on his boot, then turned to her, completely ignoring Manny.

He got straight to the point. "I have traveled but little in this realm. There are those I would meet, yet know not how to find. I seek the services of a guide." He had a nice accent, English, she thought. "Posh" is what they would have called it in London. It matched the rest of him.

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Wow, no kidding?"

"I would pay you a bounty most handsome. Do you agree?"

Faith smiled and looked him over. "I'm not a bounty hunter. I'm just a waitress in a bar."

"Oh, you are more than that. You have extraordinary qualities for a mortal, great strength and quick reflexes, knowledge of demons and monsters. Those skills are wasted here."

"For a mortal? What are you, Captain America?"

He looked a little offended. "I am no simple soldier. I am a god and a king, the rightful ruler of Asgard, queen of the realms."

Faith rolled her eyes in Manny's direction in a way that said, "County medical lost another one." To the stranger, she said in a deadpan voice, "You're a god. A god that needs a tour guide."

He asked with genuine interest, "Tell me, why would the Slayer be content to roust drunks from a bar when there are greater adventures to be had?"

He and Faith had a brief staring contest before Faith informed Manny, "You‘re gonna be late for work, Man. Why don't you take that with you?" She went behind the bar and pulled out a Styrofoam container. She pushed the food into the box and shoved it at Manny, urging him to go. He looked at both of them with mild curiosity, but got up to leave.

Manny turned at the exit and asked with a snicker, "You're a king and a queen?"

The stranger picked up a fork, examined it for a moment, then threw it with such force it stuck in the doorframe next to Manny's head. The fork didn't even vibrate. Manny scuttled out the door.

Faith sauntered to the doorframe and pulled out the fork. It was harder to remove than she made it look. "Neat trick. Who are you?" she asked, all business now that Manny was gone.

The tall guy stood and preened a little at her compliment. "I am Loki of Asgard. I assure you I come in good faith." He stopped at the lame pun and grinned slyly.

She stopped smiling, still sizing him up, and asked, "How did you hear about me?"

"I first encountered your name in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files."

"Shield, what is that, a law enforcement thing?"

"Well, yes, essentially. It is a covert..."

"Oh, a religious thing."

The man looked confused.

She walked to the counter to refill her coffee and took a sip, then turned to face the stranger. "If it's a Slayer you want, the world's full of them."

He smiled slightly. "They do not possess your unique qualifications."

"What qualifications? Waitress of the month?"

"I need someone with your experience and with your, well frankly, ruthlessness."

"There's a Slayer with more experience who's probably more ruthless than me."

"You speak of the golden one. Your rival."

Faith almost pouted. "People still say that?"

"They do."

"Yeah, I totally care." She was surprised at how much it bothered her, though.

He had been observing her carefully, but switched to nonchalance when she noticed. "The golden one possesses a one-sided view of the world that would prevent her from looking favorably upon my quest."

Faith squared her shoulders and tilted her head. "And you heard I'm stupid and evil, huh?"

Sincerity was all over his face. "I believe you to be grounded in reality and able to see beyond simple black and white."

"Oh." She hadn't expected him to say something sort-of nice about her.

"I am also aware that you were once, using the crude term, 'wanted' by the authorities on this world."

"So I'm guessing you've seen my rap sheet."

He paced to the window, his hands clasped firmly behind him as if he was Napoleon giving orders on the deck of a ship, not concerned at all about turning his back on someone he probably knew was a murderer.

"I'm curious that you didn't try to attack me when I threw the implement at your friend."

"We can make up for that now, if you want. I mean, you're annoying, but I try not to scare the customers."

He turned to glance around the empty cantina and smiled broadly.

She shifted her hips. "And, you haven't attacked me."

"Will that be needed for you to consider my request in earnest?"

"Ernest? Is he in this fight, too?"

He looked confused again. He _was_ starting to annoy her, so she said, "For laughs, suppose you just tell me what you want and how much you're offering for it."

He looked pleased and definitely up to no good. "I'm looking for a magical artifact. I believe it to be in the possession of demons, but I know not which demons nor where they live."

"Demons don't give things up just because you smile too much and ask nicely."

"I'm sure I can persuade them to part with it gladly."

"Maybe, maybe not. Demons deal in magic. If this is about magic, I know some witches."

"Wearisome women playing at games." He flicked a hand at his side, like he was dismissing them. "I need a warrior, one who isn't afraid of the dark, one who won't hesitate to confront monsters and make demands of them."

Faith started to strut, before she caught herself and went back to the counter. She remarked, "Some of these witches are a lot better at investigating and planning than me."

His smile became even more creepy. Still dripped with sincerity, though. "Do not concern yourself with logistics. I will do the thinking. You will do what you do best." He didn't add "dearie," but it was implied.

That helped Faith make her decision. The people she worked with might not have trusted her, but they never condescended to her.

"I'm not interested, Mr. ... Offassguard."

"Loki. Asgard is the land where I was king."

"Right... in Europe."

He grinned in his infuriating way. "Asgard is in another realm, far from this place, but accessible through the branches of Yggdrasil."

She gave him a fixed look and lifted her coffee cup to her mouth. The coffee was still hot. Good to know in case she had to throw it in his face. "We only have an ATM machine at the gas station, no branch of Drizdrazzle."

"Yggdrasil, the Great Tree."

That smile again. It was funny, because it had Faith on the verge of liking him, then pulling back because she knew she shouldn't believe him. He was such a slick talker, she almost managed to forget he was a nut job. Her cray-dar was usually fail-safe.

He peered at her as if he was reading her thoughts. "I assure you, I have been sincere in all I've said. I fully retain my capacity for rational thought. Further, I do possess large amounts of your current medium of exchange." He pulled out a fan of cash that seemed to be entirely made of one hundred dollar bills. They didn't even look fake. "May I at least pay for your meal?"

Faith scowled. "Coffee's free for me. We don't have change for that, anyway."

He put the cash away. It disappeared so quickly, he had to be some kind of magician, or maybe con man.

Faith gave him her best "even if I gave two damns, you still couldn't touch me" attitude. "Like I said, not interested in being your guide. If you want to stay here 'til we open and order food, fine. But I'm not gonna change my mind."

He pinched his thin lips together, smile gone. He looked down and started murmuring, like he was talking to himself, "Free will is a gift that humans hold to with desperate tenacity, but changeability also resides in their nature." His eyes swung up to give her a hard stare.

Faith braced herself for a fight. The fork in the door told her he was pretty strong for a human.

He noticed her shift into a defensive stance, and showed his teeth in feral excitement, but all he said was, " _Should_ you change your mind, this is where I will be."

He walked up to her and handed her a small card, then turned gracefully on his heel and swept out of the cantina.

She was left with what she guessed was a calling card that had directions written on it in a precise and elegant script. The directions led to the site of the vampire nest she destroyed.


	2. Fantasy Destinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more things change...

She figured there'd be UFO nuts in the desert. There was the craze she heard about that happened a couple years ago. Some hammer fell out of the sky, drew all the visitors in. Big moment for the locals.  
  
But a guy who thought he was a king from another planet? That pushed way beyond her expectations. Still, meeting him had been the high point of her stay in Little Cruci.  
  
What was wrong with her? He was obvious bad news to himself. He was also a tall drink of danger and excitement in a town that had run dry.  
  
Faith went to the kitchen and started upstairs to her room. She gave Luisa a half-hearted wave.  
  
"What's troubling you, Chica?" Luisa asked.  
  
"Feeling restless," was all Faith could say.  
  
She mentally kicked herself. She was supposed to be changing her life, not chasing after trouble. Every place she went, it was always a headlong rush into violence. No sooner did she say, "Hi," than she had to bash someone's head in. At one time that was a thrill, made her feel she was solving her problems. But after years of fighting? Problems kept coming. She was getting older. All she could see was more of the same.  
  
So, when Will talked about Taos, Faith thought maybe that was the answer. Willow described red-orange canyons, wind-scoured plateaus, endless blue skies, small pueblos where people helped each other. Quiet spaces for thinking.  
  
It sounded like one of those glossy brochures Faith used to lift from Fantasy Destinations when she was young. They had stacks of them by the door. A poor street kid could take as many as she wanted. She kept them in her treasure chest, which in her case was made of cardboard and stuck under the porch. She'd hide beneath the stairs and absorb the pictures of Istanbul with its Golden Horn of sapphire, Princes' Islands just on the horizon. She'd look at the fjords of Norway, stately and remote, nothing but white and blue as far as the eye could see. The pictures made her ache for something that felt so real she could almost touch it. Trying to resist the anger and fear she met in Southie that were making her go dead inside.  
  
Faith thought she'd create her own version of Will's paradise in the desert. She knew why Will left -- magical saving to do -- but Faith got the impression Willow was sick of her earth-loving friends despite her words of rapture. Faith would steer clear of that drama. She did better on her own, anyways.  
  
She'd find one of those silver, round campers, or maybe a cheaper crate. She laughed as she pictured herself, some kind of hippie free spirit, brown from the sun, sitting under strips of plastic, sipping Mountain Dew, making a living off macramé bracelets or bolo ties or whatever people did in the desert. Spewing forth wisdom to every bug-eyed tourist who dropped by her little compound. A few chickens in the shade, a yellow dog, and wind chimes. Or maybe she'd lose it entirely and become one with the land. Either way, the desert sounded good, cleansing.  
  
She left a lot of things behind to get to it. She had a house, but it really belonged to someone else. She had her direction as a Slayer, but ever since she hit Sunnydale, it was always someone else driving the car. She had friends. They were the real kind who stood by her and told her when she was wrong. Problem was, she never felt right around them. It's like they expected the worst from her and felt they had to tell her what to do. They brought up her mistakes over and over, like nothing could change or be forgiven. She figured, if she had changed, if she was really good or at least headed that way, she should be able to do it on her own, know right from wrong and act right. She didn't need backseat drivers screaming at her to turn left, no turn right, no -- let _them_ take the wheel.  
  
She could see the road just fine. So, she bought the whole travel brochure, the desert as some kind of mystical place where she could get away from the noise, connect with nature, find herself. Like the desert was anywhere close to where she got lost in the first place. But that was the point.  
  
Pink flowers on cactus and lapidary classes. She thought that was the answer. As far away as she could get from the life she knew. Far away from the pain. Far away from the people who thought they knew her. Girl's gotta stand on her own some time, listen to her own voice.  
  
Greyhound took her to Las Encrucijadas, a tumbleweed in the middle of an armpit. The people there called it “Little Cruci.” It was a strip mall belched out of Hell, five blocks long by two blocks wide. Absentee county sheriff, no other cops. Truck stop right outside town. Broken neon sign: Gas, Foo, Lodging. It was a thirty minute eat and smoke break on the bus route. She got off the bus to stretch her legs and get a bite or a drink. Either was good.  
  
El Sueño Azul: ambitious name for a dusty cantina that was nothing but a blue room with places to sit. Hunched on a corner across from the bus stop, its red, white and blue Budweiser sign flashed OPEN. Raucous laughter drifted through the open door.  
  
When Faith walked up to the restaurant, she heard a woman yell out in anger. The few other passengers crept back to the bus, but Faith was hungry. No other place in sight, so she went in to size up the sitch.  
  
Three men, looked like drifters, were pushing a scared waitress back and forth. Woman with a shotgun shouted at them to stop. A sneering guy grabbed the gun from her. Straight out of a Saturday morning Western, and no lawman in sight.  
  
Faith tripped the man with his back turned to the door. He fell like a stone. She grabbed a chair and hit the second man across the face. He fell into the tables. She shoved the chair at the shotgun, driving it out of the third man's grasp as it flew above his head. She kicked him in the gut, taking all the air out of him. She caught the shotgun as it came back down, and said to the woman who lost it, "What do you wanna do with these three?"  
  
The woman was a little shaky. "Just let them go."  
  
Faith smiled and announced, "You got lucky. It's closing time." The men picked themselves up and slunk out the door.  
  
Faith scarfed a wicked good burrito while the bar owner, Luisa, thanked her for helping out. A few bus passengers filtered in for a meal. The waitress quit on the spot. Luisa offered Faith the waitress job with decent pay and a room above the bar. Faith’s insecurity about being poor must have kicked in. She accepted the first real job she'd ever had, one that didn't have anything to do with her being a Slayer -- well, not specifically.  
  
After four months, she hadn't learned anything new about herself. She didn't like her life much more than she did when she lived in filthy cities or pristine suburbs. The only difference between them and Little Cruci was that there was less to do in the desert town. She stayed in her room most days. She slept a lot. She learned some working Spanish, but nothing else. At least she got a break from angsting over the meaning of life like some teenager.  
  
She avoided the old habits. Truckers used to be her kind of here one-night, gone tomorrow, always full of stimulants to keep up that all-important stamina. She remembered their performances more than their faces. She never bothered to learn their names. Way she always liked it. Relationships were for people who lived to be sixty and lied to themselves that life was perfect.  
  
Faith's life had always been dark and dirty. The whole point of being in the god-forsaken desert was to fill up with light and burn herself clean.  
  
She should have known there'd be vampires. Her life's work found her at the butt end of the world. An entire nest was squatting in an abandoned rancho. They were ancient and organized. They stopped truckers by standing on the road and pretending to get hit. Oldest game going. They feasted on the drivers who stopped -- it was worse for the ones who didn't stop if the vamps were hungry -- then finished the run and collected the money and any hitchers they ran across.  
  
Faith made them right off. They were sniffing around the cantina for take-out. She borrowed Juan’s old Honda and tracked them to their holdout twenty miles north of town.  
  
It took her over a month to get rid of them. Trucker vamps kept coming back. She finally burned the rancho’s derelict buildings. After that, the town stopped attracting vampires, though drivers on their own in the desert were still easy pickings.  
  
But even without the vampires, bloodsuckers made a beeline for Little Cruci. The place was full up with drugs, most made in the desert or smuggled in from Mexico. There was a time when she have been right there, using anything going. Now drugs just meant facing crazy people she couldn't kill to protect people who wouldn't get crazy enough to help themselves.  
  
It was like the evil equivalent of housework. Faith could mop the floors and take out the trash, but she always had to do the same thing again the next day. Meanwhile, the people who benefited just sat there and watched. Waitressing was like that, too, but at least she got tips.  
  
It wasn’t enough to keep her there. She was thinking of leaving town and going back to London with her tail between her legs. She just hadn’t worked up the sufficient guilt or self-hatred or whatever it was that made her accept friends who felt they had to watch her like eagles to make sure she didn't mess up.  
  
Sure, she was grateful for the changes her friends helped make happen. She wasn't a fugitive anymore. She could pass in polite society. She didn't become a lobotomized zombie blissed-out on denial.  
  
And it wasn't as though she didn't understand her friends' point of view. She cringed when she thought of the mistakes she almost made, mistakes that could have changed her friends' lives for the worse. Somehow she felt she had the right to make those decisions on her own, without consulting them. She didn't want to be in a position to make those bad decisions again. She didn't want to be responsible for the fate of the world, or even the few people in it who were close to her. So, she stayed in Little Cruci.  
  
She should have slammed that guy when he threw the fork at Manny, maybe thrown him right through the little window head first. She would have felt better after that.  
  
She probably would-of felt worse.  
  
Instead of going up to her room, she took Juan's keys and headed for the bike. Maybe a ride would clear her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comics Faith has matured from TV-Faith, but her life is still extremely whack.


	3. Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors arrive in Little Cruci.

Faith borrowed Juan's old 400/4 to ride out into the desert. It was a small bike, but solid. Juan had just bought the Suzuki of his dreams. The little Honda stood neglected behind the cantina. He said he was grateful to her for keeping the engine running.

She sat in the shade of the only ridge in the area. She noticed a few cars zipping along the highway. This was her life now. Nothing happened. She just watched.

In the distance, a shiny black car stopped. You didn't see too many black cars in this part of the desert. Two men got out, dressed in black. One of them scanned the horizon. The other shielded some kind of tablet or portable computer. The sun flashed off its surface as he moved it around. Probably couldn't get a connection. 

They got back in their car and headed for Little Cruci.

When she rolled into town around four, about an hour before her shift, she noticed a shiny black car in front of the cantina. She swung around to the back of the building to park and cover the bike. She passed Luisa on the way to the stairs. Luisa seemed nervous. Faith waved to her and sprinted up the wooden steps to the second floor. 

Two men stood outside her door. One was a clean-cut bureaucrat type in a neat, two-piece suit, pale shirt, modest tie. The other was a G.I. Joe action figure in a leather jumpsuit with no sleeves. 

The pencil pusher held a tablet as if it was the Holy Grail. He had a polite smile. He had a face nobody would remember even if he just pulled off a massacre. His quiet confidence contradicted his harmless appearance. 

Soldier boy, on the other hand, had a grim little pug face with an etched-in frown. His bird-like eyes focused hard on everything. He had a rockin' body, but he dressed to show off, which mighta meant it was all he had. Faith thought he was obviously the other's errand boy. There was something familiar about Leather Man, but she couldn't place where she'd seen him.

Faith walked up to them and smiled. "Restaurant's downstairs, guys."

The man in the suit spoke. "Miss Lehane, I am Agent Coulson. This is Agent Barton." Barton glared at her.

She glared right back. There were many agencies in the world, and as far as Faith could tell, they did nothing to help or protect those that needed it. They just caused trouble for people like her. "If you're selling something, I'm not interested."

"We're with S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I don't need insurance."

"It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"Not a religious thing, then."

He looked slightly amused. "No, Ms. Lehane. It's part of the federal government."

"Luisa and Juan are legal. I don't know about nothing else. I gotta get ready for work." 

She tried to push past them to her door, but the muscle man blocked her way. She would have loved to throw him down the stairs, but she also wanted to keep a low profile. That made her even more pissed off.

The mild-mannered suit said, "We're here about Mr. Laufeyson."

"Don't know him."

"You met with him this morning."

"I didn't meet any... what was the name?"

He turned his tablet towards her and touched a folder name "Hostile L.L." She noticed another folder named "Suspect F.L." He said, "This is Mr. Laufeyson."

The tablet displayed a video of the nutjob who visited her that morning, only in the video, the man was wearing tons of fancy leather and metal bondage gear, his hair was shorter and spikier, and his eyes were red-rimmed and wild-looking. He paced like a caged animal that wanted to get out and kill its captors. This was probably because he looked beat up, was in chains, and had a huge harmonica strapped to his mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Does he do parties?"

"We'd like to ask what he said to you."

"I'd like to get into my room."

"We are asking," mini-Juggernaut growled. He seemed to have it in for her.

"Bad cop speaks!" She smiled and gave him a thorough looking-over. "Did they only have the Robin costume left?"

He ignored the jibe. "You don't like cops?"

"Half my family are cops."

"The other half are criminals."

She smiled. "That's the fam. One coin... one side, really."

"The criminal side. We've been following your career for years."

"Career, huh? Musta been a thrill for you."

He got right in her face. "You first came up on our radar when you moved to Sunnydale, where you hooked up with the town's mayor, a man at least twice your age."

"He was older than that, but he hid it pretty good." She felt like punching him, but instead she smiled like she didn't care.

"He paid for an apartment and fancy gifts. His files call you his 'little Slayer.'"

"He was a big fan of _Reign in Blood_."

"I think he meant Slayer like the ones the reality star talked about."

"You believed that stuff?"

Coulson tried to interrupt. "No, that was shown to be a hoax. Ms. Lehane..."

Barton was on a roll, however. "The mayor disappeared when the high school was blown up. You became a fugitive."

"Check the file. I was in a coma, not exactly running away."

His eyes narrowed. "You ended up in an L.A. jail for murder: cold-blooded, first-degree murder."

"Sounds dirty when you say it."

"Surprised you didn't cop an insanity plea. First you turned yourself in, then you broke through a reinforced window to escape. Maybe insanity wasn't far off the mark."

"Maybe I had enough of the prison burritos. Doesn't matter. My record was cleared."

Coulson tried to interrupt again, but Barton kept going. "Next time we caught wind of you, Sunnydale was a crater, and you were standing at the edge of it."

"You stay up all night memorizing my file? No wonder you're so cranky."

The suit guy jumped in, saying in a small voice, like he was embarrassed he couldn't solve the puzzle, "Sunnydale's destruction is also something we haven't been able to explain to this day."

"SHIELD's protection racket's a little weak, Agent. Definitely not signing up for the insurance."

The little Bullworker continued, "Recently, you showed up in England, where conveniently, you hooked up with a man who used to live in Sunnydale, a man who was at least twice your age."

"Like he'd ever admit to that."

"When he disappeared under mysterious circumstances, you inherited his estate."

She rolled her eyes. "I get it. I'm a busy girl. If you check, that's all straightened out."

He didn't seem to hear her. "Now, for some reason, you're in the middle of the desert meeting with this bastard."

"I told you I didn't meet with him. He came into the bar as a customer."

"You had no other interest in him?"

"Such as? Oh, that's right. You think I'm a black widow."

"That's the last thing I think about you."

She raised her chin, put a grin on her face, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. They didn't know anything about her. They hoped to get a rise, but why give them the satisfaction? If they got physical, well, Shortie looked tough, for all his fussy gear, but she could probably take him. The wistful guy in the suit could probably only paper her to death.

"Let me look at that picture again." The suit passed her the tablet. "Not my type." She looked at Barton. "Not twice my age."

Tablet man said, "In fact, he's a few thousand years old."

She examined the video. "No kidding? Didn't get close enough to tell."

"What did he want?"

"I can't say."

"What did he tell you?"

"Nutty things. Off his meds, but not postal. I wasn't paying much attention."

The troll doll jumped in, "We've got all day, you know."

"Back down, Bartown. I've got a job to do."

The gnome squinted his eyes and growled, "It's Barton."

The bureaucrat took a more conciliatory tone. "We don't want to inconvenience you, Ms. Lehane. We just need information on this man." Barton was a bulldog of frowning disapproval, but he kept quiet.

"Why?"

"He's one of the top criminals in the country."

"Him? I thought he was selling Avon." 

"He tried to take over the world a little over a year ago. You probably heard about New York City."

Who hadn't? "Thought that was aliens."

Coulson took a deep breath, and admitted, "Mr. Laufeyson is an alien, a prince from another, ah, realm. He made it possible for the alien army to attack New York. His role was kept quiet for diplomatic reasons. He was returned to his home world, with his people's promise of punishment. They didn't handle their prince's punishment in quite the manner we expected. They sent him back to Earth. We'd like to know why."

Faith was startled to hear that this crazy person was actually telling the truth about being from another planet -- unless this was all a joke and these guys were in on it.

"Right, born yesterday. Next you'll be sayin' he's a lizard under that skin, or green. Who put you up to this?"

The suit acted like a kindly parish priest. That really put her on guard. "Mr. Laufeyson is a dangerous individual, certainly homicidal, possibly genocidal. He is a compulsive liar who is full of rage. He is quite possibly insane."

"The same way I'm insane, according to Barty here?"

Barton had to jump in. "You killed two people that we know of. He killed hundreds."

"On his own? And he's still walking around? My tax dollars at work."

Barton grimaced, "We can't touch him. Diplomatic thing."

"So what: you want me to help put him in prison?"

"Dead works better for me." 

Coulson said, "Ms. Lehane, we just want to give you a warning."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. I'm terrified."

"We advise you to stay away from him, but if he contacts you again, we hope you would do your civic duty and tell us what he wants."

"Yes, officer. We done here?"

"I'm not joking, Ms. Lehane. He put a knife in my back."

"I'll be sure not to turn my back on him."

"If he lets you choose," Grumpy warned. "He can control your mind and run you into the ground. He's pure evil."

Faith had heard enough. "I'm sure your files on him are accurate," she looked at Coulson, "like they are about me."

Coulson handed her a card. "Please consider our request." 

The card said he was a high school principal in New York City, not a government agent or whatever he was supposed to be. She felt a surge of respect. He was probably tougher than he looked. 

"Hey, I used to date a principal."

Barton's frown grew more ugly, but Coulson remarked, "It's a very satisfying position."

"Got that right."

"You can reach me at that number any time. If he contacts you, I can't stress how important it is that you get in touch with us to let us know what he's planning. Exercise extreme caution if you see him. We appreciate your cooperation".

"Five-by-five."

As the two men headed down the stairs, Faith heard Coulson ask, "What got into you?"

Barton mumbled, "I knew Lester Worth, one of the men she killed."

"You should've let me know, Clint. We were supposed to convince her..."

Barton shot back, "Wasn't gonna happen. You saw her. As far as I'm concerned, she and Loki deserve each other. Terminal head cases, both of them. Someone should put them down."

Barton saying he knew Professor Worth hit her like a slug to the stomach. No wonder he hated her. She didn't blame him.

Faith went into her room and sat on the bed. Right back to square one. Right back to the worst thing she'd ever done. She would never escape the past. How do you escape from something like that? She was just being selfish by trying to hide from it. Personal growth, what a joke.

Eventually, she got up to shower and change. Shift coming up pretty fast. She noticed her stuff had been moved. Her phone was missing. 

She thought of going after the two men, but decided just to let it be. She never used the phone. Who was she gonna call? She only heard from people when the world was ending. She hadn't even put numbers or addresses in the phone, only music.

She got under the hot water and breathed in huge gulps of steam, hoping she'd calm down and feel more in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys, but this isn't their story.


	4. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terms are set.

Coming down to work after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s visit, Faith saw Luisa poised by the door like she was guarding it, wringing her hands together. Juan hovered nervously nearby. Faith could guess why. They probably heard Barton telling Coulson that she murdered people.

In the middle of her shift, Faith told Luisa that she had to quit her job and leave town. She was sorry to leave the restaurant in the lurch.

They understood. Luisa handed her an entire month's wages, two weeks more than she was owed. Juan accepted that money for his old bike. Faith got the papers and other stuff she hid, and her few belongings, and hit the road around one in the morning.

She probably could have stayed in Little Cruci. She hadn't done anything wrong. But she didn't want to lie to Luisa or Juan or give them any trouble. She wanted to do the right thing. 

The right thing would never include squealing to the cops. Sure, half her family was cops, but that didn't mean they weren't also criminals, just a little smarter than the ones who broke the law without a badge. Where she grew up, you didn't go to the cops, even if you had problems. She was a nameless kid who lived with violent and drunken parents in a wreck of a house, who was pushed out on the streets as soon as she could walk, whose extended family gave up on all of them. Cops never protected her. She took care of herself.

People didn't go to the cops in her neighborhood, but if the cops were looking for you, it was only fair you got a head start. On her block, people were always walking the line. People left each other alone most times, but when trouble cruised the streets in a patrol car, people gave each other a nod to point it out.

Like when she was a kid. There was this guy in the house next door, from Ireland, kept to himself. FBI agents came by, asking about him. Obvious they thought he was I.R.A. After they left, soon as the guy turned up at his apartment, neighbors knocked on his door to let him know the feds were nosing around. He left that night. Nobody questioned what they'd done. That was the way it was. 

She still held to that code. She had no reason not to. For all the wrongs she'd committed, cops never made it right. She had to do that herself. Police mighta done a tough job in some places, but for her, who could handle things herself, they made life worse.

She left town with only one definite stop in mind. She didn't see a tail, but that didn't mean she wasn't followed. She headed out into the desert flats where, really, only off-road bikes were safe. When she was satisfied she was out of range of black cars, she doubled back for the ghost ranch that used to be strike-it-rich for vampires.

She came up to a dilapidated Victorian a half mile down the road from the former vampire lair. She visited this house in her first rout of the nest. It had broken windows and a fallen roof. In daytime, the sun painted the patchy interior walls with arcs of light. After she got busy and eliminated the vampires, she forgot about the place. She didn't think any sane creature larger than a dog would live there. 

In the wavering white circle made by the bike's headlight, she could make out the alien's tall figure standing on the porch. It was like he was waiting for her. The bike wasn't that loud, but in the quiet of the desert, he might have heard her coming for miles.

She admitted to herself that she wasn't a great detective. Buffy and her crew were better at that. Faith could usually only focus on what was right in front of her eyes. She wasn't good at seeing details. She wasn't great at planning ahead.

She stopped the bike in front of the house and balanced it with her legs. "Hey," she shouted. "Glad you're up."

"I need little sleep."

He descended the steps with flair, like Fred Astaire in a musical. He walked up to her bike. "Have you come for the answer to the second part of your question, how much I will pay you for your services?" He circled the bike as he spoke, examining it. She could hear the confidence in his voice.

"Cool your jets, Rico. I'm only here to tell you that two guys were looking for you at the cantina."

He stopped circling, but otherwise seemed unbothered. "Tell me about them."

"They said they were from something called S.H.I.E.L.D. Suit named Coulson and his bodyguard, Barton."

Even in the dark, she could see the narrow strip of white revealed in a wide grin. "Barton used to work for me."

"Is that how he got to be such an ass?"

"Oh, he was an ass when I met him."

"Not a surprise. Coulson work for you, too?"

"I eliminated Coulson the first time I encountered him."

" _He_ said you stabbed him in the back. Maybe that's why he's after you."

"He should rather be grateful I spared him for the chase he now pursues."

Faith's face screwed up with questions, then settled into her normal look of neutral and bored. "Not that I care." She turned the key to start the bike. She revved the engine. "Been real." 

She hit the throttle, but the bike didn't move. She looked back to see his hand holding the rack.

So the alien was strong. She'd met strong before. "You might wanna let go before you lose that arm."

He didn't let go. She cut the motor, put the kickstand down, swung her leg around and aimed her foot at his head. He caught her ankle in his free hand an inch before her heel would have hit his face. He was not only strong, he was quick. 

Holding her leg aloft, he asked in a calm voice, "I hoped you had reconsidered my proposition. As long as you are here, we could perhaps talk about it. I am asking nicely."

"You gonna hold my leg all night?"

He let go of her ankle.

She complained, "Had enough questions for one day."

He again circled the bike like a starved cat savoring the capture of its prey. "You run without purpose and no place awaits you. At the least, I promise a glorious and rewarding adventure. What have you to lose?"

"I've heard that before."

"But I am telling the truth."

She doubted it. But he had been more or less polite and hadn't really tried to hurt her, yet. Like he said, what did she have to lose? And though part of her was tempted to kick him to surprise that superior tone out of him, one of the things she wanted to change was the way she solved problems with her fists. 

She rocketed off the bike and strolled right into the broken-down house.

A group of smoky candles flickered on the floor, making the walls look alive and fluid, like in a horror movie. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the place was worse on the inside than on the out. There was no furniture. Dust covered all visible surfaces except a narrow line on the floor made of footprints. He must have won a championship in pacing. 

"I knew this place was distressed, but I wasn't expecting Tyler Durden."

His eyebrows rose in a quizzical expression. "It is a house, it is not?"

"Off the grid, I'll give you that." She walked through the rooms, kicking the door frames with her boot. Each room was more deserted than the last. "No fixtures worth stealing."

His expression indicated he might have a problem with simple English. "I'll remember that the next time I am in need of temporary quarters."

"Couldn't afford a motel?"

"I could purchase one of your motels, but to what end? I arrived here on short notice, with no intention of staying. This abode is close to your place of work as well as the road that led me here."

She dragged her toe along the dusty floor, tracing the hobo sign of a knife with a line through its end. "So tell me your story, about the millions you're going to pay me for this job."

"Is this your price? I may be some time in raising such funds."

She wondered how she missed the tub full of sharks with laser beams attached to their heads. "Wow, Slick. Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth."

He seemed stymied. "I assure you that isn't true." His eyes narrowed. "What did Coulson and Barton tell you about me?"

Faith gave him a big smile. "They said you're insane."

His face filled with annoyance as if he wanted to strangle someone. "They underestimate me at their peril."

Faith just blinked.

"I am in complete control of my mind and emotions," he said, hysteria edging into his voice.

"They said you're a threat, that you killed hundreds. Thing is, they can't be bothered to do anything about it."

"Touching me would bring the wroth of Asgard upon them."

"Oh, and they called you Loftyson, not Assguard."

A wave of emotions swept over his face before he regained his composure. He seemed high strung, but not exactly insane.

"Asgard is where I was raised. I am from Asgard. Laufeyson is not my name."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is not exactly tops in information, but they should at least get your name right."

"There is little they get right. They would have learned this name from those in Asgard, not from me. That they use it tells me many things about my position there."

"So why would they call you Lauffee …that?"

With a grim frown, he responded, "They seek to take from me my rightful legacy and attach one far less noble."

"Well, if that's not your name, what are you called?"

"I have many kennings, but for most, I am called by one name: Loki."

"No last name?"

"Is one necessary?"

"Only big, pretentious stars have one name."

He seemed unfazed by this information, lost in thought, until a wicked, sly expression stole over his face. "You may call me, 'King.'"

"King? King's your alias?"

"Would Monarch be better?"

"No." Faith nearly burst out laughing. "King is simple and easy to remember, not as obvious as Smith or Jones."

He certainly seemed to like it.

"So, King," she said, taking in the crappy surroundings, "how exactly are you're gonna pay me to help you?"

"You have my solemn word that when this venture has been completed, you will have comfort for the rest of your life."

"I'm a lucky girl. Too bad I can't put gas in my tank tonight."

He reached into his jacket and produced the thick stack of bills. "How much do you need?"

"You could start with all of that."

He gave half of the stack to her.

Faith glanced quickly through the bills, all hundreds. "There must be twenty thousand dollars here," she said in awe.

"Is it sufficient to secure your services?"

"No." She half-heartedly tried to hand the bills back.

"Keep the money. For your trouble in warning me about your visitors."

Faith tried to jam the money into her jacket pocket, where it bulged out. "This doesn't mean I'm going to work for you."

"What more do you need?" He was genuinely puzzled.

"What are you going after that you want me as a guide?"

He glanced around the empty house. "I regret that I do not have chairs. The explanation may be lengthy in the telling."

"I don't want to hear the Tales of Asgard. Just let me know what you're looking for, and why."

"I am looking for something called the 'Braid of Souls.'" His eyes settled on hers with a piercing, inquisitive look. "Have you heard of it?"

"No. I don't keep track of magical artifacts. Other people do that."

He relaxed and nodded his understanding. "You need not know of this trinket to help me find it. I want your expertise in dealing with the demons of this world. I believe one of them has the Braid."

"By 'deal with,' you mean kill?"

His lips fell into their half-amused curve. "Only if required by circumstance. Your experience in dispatching demons may prove helpful should they fail to cooperate. However, your familiarity with demon haunts is far more valuable to me than your slaughtering them on sight, thus alerting others to our purpose."

"Why _do_ you want this Braid?" She checked out his thick mane of long hair. "You don't need extensions."

He looked at her with deep sincerity. "The Braid is used to unite diverse worlds in peace. I hope to use it to align this world with Asgard."

Faith jerked her head back and widened her eyes. "Can I get a shake with those lies?"

He blinked and assured her, ""This is the truth, but I'll allow, spoken in grandiose terms."

"It's grandiose, anyway."

His lips thinned and he said quietly, "The Braid will also restore me to my rightful place in Asgard."

She stared at him for several minutes. S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to think this guy was a menace, but they also thought she was a mass murderer. Not that she wasn't, but they were way off on the nature of her victims, most of whom were already dead. This King seemed full of himself and maybe a little delusional, but not really violent or dangerous. Still, she should probably find out what he was up to, if it had to do with taking over the world.

She said, "Well, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ruined my gig here. I have no place to go, like you said. If you're looking for this Braid, you can count on me to be there when you find it. But I usually work alone. I'm not good at taking orders."

"Whereas I am used to giving orders and having them be immediately obeyed. Take Barton, for example. Before I was aware of them, he was able to anticipate and satisfy my most urgent needs."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen. This is strictly business."

"Of course." He gave her another of his annoyingly smug smiles. "Is there anything else you require?"

"Besides comfort for life?"

"Yes."

"Guess not," Faith said with some reluctance. "We have a deal." 

Faith stuck out her hand. He looked at it with apprehension.

"What is this?"

"This is how we seal a deal on Earth -- a handshake."

This was obviously a problem for him. '"Is not my word on this enough?"

Faith withdrew her hand, her eyes slanted with suspicion. "Fine by me. Just so we're clear, I won't be some lackey employee. I'm an independent contractor. I set my own hours. You're not telling me how to do my job. Maybe I don't have much education, but I've never been stupid. You take my lead and follow what I tell you to do."

He smirked slightly. "I would not have approached you had I not perceived qualities I could respect, despite the obvious deficiencies."

Faith crossed her arms and challenged, "Such as?"

"Aside from being mortal, for one, you're a woman." He said it as if it was common knowledge that being a woman was a deficiency.

"You're a moron."

"Your emotional reaction proves the truth of my statement."

"Like you've said one true thing the whole time I've been here."

He clenched a hand at his side and began to pace the floor. "I can see that I've offended you. I regret that."

"You're gonna regret a lot more." She walked to the door and opened it, muttering, "What was I thinking, agreeing to work for some jerk I just met, someone who, as usual, is wanted by the cops?"

"You're not going?" He had stopped pacing and was holding his arms straight out from his sides, palms up, universal gesture of supplication. "Lady Faith, please reconsider."

In disbelief, she asked, "What did you call me?"

He drew his eyebrows together to form a line of concern. "Did S.H.I.E.L.D. tell you of my origins?"

"They said you're from another planet."

"Midgard, we call your Earth. The customs and culture of Midgard are strange to me."

"Is that another deficiency?"

He paused, then explained, "You no doubt consider yourself my equal. I may entertain that perception for as long as you work for me, but I am not like you. I have lived thousands of your years and I am yet young. Your kind worshiped those of Asgard when I was but a child. Those ways are forgotten now…"

"Whole neighborhood's gone to Hell."

"Eventually." His face split into an enigmatic smile, as if he had a secret. "Know this: I am here for one purpose and would limit my actions to that."

"Know this: it's damned hard to understand a word you're saying."

He had gone back to his calm and patient demeanor. He was like quicksilver, flowing and quivering one moment, still and solid-looking the next, shining like bright steel, except that hard surface was a lie. When you put your finger on mercury, it broke into a million identical, slippery pieces, all running away from you. Her dad gave her the stuff to play with from the bullets he made, before she learned how deadly it could be.

He took a more reasonable tone. "I believe you can help me find the Braid. I will, as you say, follow your lead."

Coming out of her reverie, she replied, "Better for you that way. You don't want to get hurt."

He bristled. "I can fight."

Faith wondered about that. "So, let's get this straight: I'm just supposed to point to where the demons are and let you do all the talking?"

"I believe that would be best."

"What do you think a Slayer even does? Not that S.H.I.E.L.D. figured that out."

He just stood there with his arms out from his sides, trying to seem friendly, she guessed.

She sized him up and said, "Your funeral. But I want another forty thousand up front before I show you demon one."

He handed her the rest of the bills as if it was no big thing. "We will have to travel to Nevada, but I can get the rest once we are in that province."

"Chill with me."

"Let us depart, then, on our quest for the Braid."

He had to be kidding. But, at the mention of the Braid, Faith remembered she wanted to figure out what this clown was up to. "You don't have to pack?"

"Everything I own I carry on me."

"That suit's gonna get ruined on the road."

"This is all I have."

"OK, your Highness. Let's saddle up. We have to make time if we are going to dodge S.H.I.E.L.D."

His eyes made a brief survey of the ceiling. "I doubt that will be possible."

At the bike, Faith took a second helmet out of a bag. She handed it to him. "Wear this."

He turned it in his hands with clear distaste.

"Juan insisted I take it. It was that or throw it away."

He continued to rotate the bright red helmet, stalling for time, his expression growing mutinous.

"You're following my lead, remember?"

He put it on without enthusiasm. "As a helm, it's not very impressive." He winced at the tight fit.

"You want to keep your brains in your head? Not that I've ever taken a spill on a bike."

She got on and started the engine, yelling over its sputter, "Get behind me and hold on."

He mounted the seat, and the bike sank. He was much heavier than he looked. His legs were so long, his knees jutted out from the sides of the bike.

"You can put your legs over my thighs, if you want. And put your arms around my waist. It'll be more comfortable."

He tentatively moved his knees closer.

She yelled, "Is this gonna be a problem?"

"No," he replied stiffly.

"Hang on!"

With the surprisingly heavy alien perched on the back of the long seat, the little bike didn't exactly speed down the road. It strained towards the poorly-lit highway. And instead of putting his arms around Faith, Mr. King gripped the underside of the seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Road trip!


	5. Fairy Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith and Loki stop at a roadside restaurant.

It took a long time to go a short distance. Faith was tired. Light after light threw a flimsy yellow veil over them. She felt like she was encased in amber. A car passing in the opposite direction occasionally broke the monotony, especially when the car was weaving, but mostly she and King were alone on the highway. They seemed to be as far away from Vegas as when they started.

King's weight slowed down the already small bike. The non-aerodynamic angle of his protruding legs cut their speed even more.

Faith was freezing, which made it hard for her to concentrate. Cold wasn't unusual for nights in the desert. King could have moved his body next to hers to keep them both warm, but he barely touched her, preferring to clasp his hands along the seat's metal frame.

She pulled to the side of the road and stopped to stretch her legs. The alien made an elegant exit from the bike despite the awkward position he'd held for hours. He removed the helmet. His black hair was plastered against his head. He stretched in the pale cone of the highway lamp, and smiled in a condescending and amused way.

"Tiring already?"

"Cold makes me that way."

"I'm afraid there's no remedy for that."

"You could sit closer and put your arms around my waist."

His smile widened. "I am not certain that would help." His arms spread out in a gesture of goodwill. "But I will certainly try. Your comfort is my gain, after all."

Faith was glad she didn't have to argue with him. She got her canteen out and swallowed some water, then handed it to him. He lifted it to his lips slowly, threw his head back, and took a sizable gulp. His Adam's apple danced in the pale smoothness of his stretched neck. The sharp curve of his chin was highlighted against the starry sky. Faith was transfixed, then realized he was watching her under this thick lashes, his head still back. He smiled again as he returned his head to a normal angle. The lamplight outlined his prominent cheekbones, hollowing the rest of his face in shadow, making him seem like a ghoul. He handed the canteen back to her.

"How many hours will pass until we reach Las Vegas?" he inquired with a polite curiosity.

"Too many to think about. Getting tired?"

He scoffed. "I've ridden a horse for days, a far more taxing experience than this."

"I hope that was a big horse."

He dipped his chin and brought his eyes up. "Big enough."

"Bully for you."

Faith stowed the canteen and got back on the bike. He stretched again and followed suit, pulling the helmet over his head with noticeable irritation.

"I'm waiting. Get closer."

He slowly circled his arms around her waist and drew himself nearer to her. He crossed his long forearms on top of each other to fit them to her stomach. He moved closer, until his body was aligned with her back.

She felt a surge of chill when his body touched hers. He was not relaxed, either. She'd made such a big deal about it, though, she didn't complain. Maybe it was standing on a desert road in the middle of the night that made him so cold.

She started the bike and pulled back onto the road. If she didn't warm up, she would tell him to lay off when they came to a town.

Something like a town came up shortly after dawn. A slight turn off the road revealed a clutch of plain buildings. A restaurant nestled under a sign advertising the final judgment of God. King examined the sign with a blank expression while she retrieved her bag and some supplies for the bathroom. She walked to the restaurant. He followed as if he had just regained consciousness.

It was a ranch hand's restaurant, open before dawn, half-full of men familiar with each other's company, men who joked through breakfast. The place fell silent when the pair of them walked in. Faith figured King probably looked like some swank stockbroker from a big city, or maybe a suit salesman, his dark jacket and patterned scarf certainly out of place in that dusty stop. She, on the other hand, probably looked like a hitchhiker he picked up on the road, with her leather jacket, jeans and tank top, all tight enough to attract lots of attention.

As if on command, the men shifted their gaze to her.

King noticed, of course. His smile became unpleasant, as he showed too many teeth, his eyes darting from one person to another.

He proceeded to walk into the place like a ruler descending to his subjects, magnanimous and superior, taking it as a given that he was the center of attention. He walked with his whole body, pushing into the room with a swaying motion, eyes hard, daring anyone to topple him from his throne.

Faith smiled her most brazen smile and looked around the place like she'd been there before.  She threw her shoulders back and followed after King.

A motherly waitress bustled up to her and King and welcomed them to the Roadrunner. She ushered them to a corner booth, away from the flow of traffic. King bowed slightly when the waitress indicated the table. Faith cringed, but a murmur of voices started up from the customers, telling her they either didn't notice or didn't care.

"We just have basic breakfast," the waitress apologized to King, handing him a menu. He looked at it as if she had offended him. "Do you already know what you want?"

King looked like he was going to say something brutal, so Faith jumped in with, "Can we take a minute to check out the menu?"

"Sure, honey. Let me know when you're ready." She bustled off.

King frowned at the faded pictures on the plastic-covered cardboard pages. "These delicacies are not familiar to me," he huffed. "But no matter. I do not require sustenance."

"Don't know when we'll get another chance at a decent meal."

"I can wait," he informed her in a cool tone.

"Whatever."

When the waitress returned and Faith ordered the French toast with cream and strawberries, and black coffee, King told the waitress he wanted the same.

The waitress brought two plates piled high with so much whipped cream, the toast was barely visible. King watched Faith carefully as she picked up her fork to cut the bread, then mimicked her movements to perfection. When he put the cream-covered square he'd dissected into his mouth, his face lit up with surprised pleasure.

"This is very good!" he exclaimed, his mouth full. The waitress was standing nearby.  She blushed with pride.

Faith frowned. "Were you raised in a barn?"

"Of course not," he replied. "What makes you think that?"

"You're talking with your mouth full."

"You are doing the same."

"I grew up on the streets. That's practically a barn."

Curiosity filled his face. "What was it like, growing up on the streets?"

"It was nothing to talk about."

"I see." He sounded disappointed. He informed her in an off-hand manner, "I was raised in a palace, with cooks and servants. We were expected to eat at a large table with the king's subjects in attendance. The meals were bountiful and the drink unending. We had few foods as pleasing as this, however."

Faith looked around. Too bad the waitress had moved on. She would have loved that story.

"Coulson said you were a prince."

"I was more than a prince," he said, with evident pride and maybe a little defensiveness.

"And this is better than what you ate?"

"Different, at least." His face became thoughtful. "I've eaten your food in the recent past, procured by Barton. It was far inferior to this, as I expected the meals in Midgard to be."

"Barton looks like the type who'd live on C-rations."

"What type is that?" He fixed his green eyes on her. They reminded her of a spring field alive with bright, new grass, wind and clouds throwing shadows and light into a constantly moving display.

"A tool."

"A ... tool?"

"Yeah. He pretends he's in control, but he's really doing something to please someone he thinks is better than he is."

Lines formed between King's eyes as he frowned and looked down. "He is remarkably skilled and very intelligent, a tremendous strategist, trusted with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets. I was fortunate to encounter him early on and obtain his loyalty." King skewered his toast with his fork. "I see now that preparation of food was one of the few areas in which he lacked expertise. He once served a dinner he called steak and salad. The steak was dry as leather and the salad was fit only for feeding livestock."

"He musta really liked you."

He smiled slightly and, raising his eyes mischievously, asked, "Does the quality of the food you expose me to mean that you like me?"

"It means I was hungry."

His manner became impersonal. "Whether or not Barton liked me was of no concern. He could not have harmed me. He claimed his style of eating was healthy."

"Screw healthy," Faith pronounced, taking another plop of cream into her mouth.

He seemed delighted at her words. "Yes, why live a life of virtue that disavows fun?"

Black coffee was not the success that French toast was, but with enough sugar and cream, King announced that it "approached acceptability."

They quickly finished their French toast and to her surprise, King ordered another two servings for both of them. Being a Slayer gave Faith a scary appetite. She wondered if the alien shared her rabid desire for food, and the metabolism to burn it all up too quickly.

Faith's mouth fell open as King blatantly sweet-talked the waitress, telling her she reminded him of his hard-working sister, and wasn't it a shame she had to be on her feet all day, why didn't she leave the cream at the table to prevent a return trip? The waitress brought two full tubs of Cool Whip to the table and left them there, smiling the whole time, saying his sister was lucky to have such a thoughtful brother.

When she left, Faith hissed, "You don't have a sister, do you?"

"Our servant is pleased to think that I do. No-one is harmed." His lips pressed together into a repressed smile, like he was trying to keep from laughing.

"Remind me of that when you're throwing up 'whipped topping.'"

She watched him eat. He had a gentle face, expressive, sensitive. There were lines around his eyes that showed he'd been under stress, but overall, he was prettier than her, like Robin used to say. His hands were nice, too, big, but fine-looking, delicate. His face and hands moved a lot when he spoke, or even when he just looked at her without speaking. In fact, his whole body was a dynamo of action, like he couldn't wait for the next thing to happen. She could see his mind work, his eyes blinking when he listened.

Faith asked him about the foods he ate growing up, and he spoke enthusiastically of roast boar and honey ale, boiled fish and enchanted mushrooms that carried him away from a "mundane existence." It sounded like fairy tales to her, the kind she'd been forced to stop thinking about before she really had a chance to get into them.

She realized with a jolt that she was being taken in. She had to readjust her perspective. Sure, she was with a real prince of some kind, but she doubted his planet actually had pork chops and beer. She suspected he was trying to put her at ease, to get her to let down her defenses, to get her to trust him while he went after the artifact.

Maybe he wanted the Braid thing to call his army, or take over Earth, or something sinister or alien like that. Point being, she was in front of this, not standing behind waiting to react, not taking orders from anyone else. If she needed help, she knew where she could find it, probably. She wondered if her friends would come if she called, but she could always contact S.H.I.E.L.D. That Barton was hot for King. Barton'd be there in a flash. Until then, until King made his move, this was her scene.

And maybe he wouldn't make a move. If that was the case, at least she'd get paid more money than she made in a bunch of years.

Anyway, his stories weren't boring. They were kind-of fascinating.

''So you're saying the boars in Asgard are like the pigs we have here?"

"No, they are vastly larger and more ferocious."

Well, that was no surprise. He was vastly larger and certainly more expansive than most men she'd met. It was like he was acting on a stage.

As soon as she thought that, her guard went up again. The S.H.I.E.L.D. busybodies were probably not totally wrong about him.

He continued, "The boar of Asgard can tear into mountainsides when provoked. It will burn whole forests with its fiery breath." She could almost see the forests burn in the shifting colors of his eyes.

She slipped into a happy state, like she was a child being told a story, only to come out of it, wondering if he was telling the truth. He had no reason to lie. He might not need a reason, though.

"I stopped listening to fairy tales years ago."

His brow wrinkled. "I assure you, fairies stay far away from boars."

"'Fairy tales' is what we call a made-up story. You know... make believe. Not true."

His confused look turned into stony stubbornness. "I am not making this up."

"But it doesn't sound real. I mean, fairies don't exist, not the Tinkerbell kind."

"Are you certain of this? I know not of Tinkerbell, but fairies do exist. They are not known for hunting... What are your fairy tales, if not of fairies?"

"They're stories you tell to kids."

"If you tell them of fairies and do not believe fairies exist, are you not lying to them?"

"Yeah, I guess. But people lie to kids all the time. Like Santa Claus. It's not a big deal."

"Your children must someday realize they have been told lies all of their lives."

"Sure, but most kids like the stories. They do it themselves, make believe. Then they grow up and get to tell stories to their kids. It's what makes us human."

"A never-ending cycle of deceit?"

"No. Well, not exactly. I guess the stories teach things. Like King Arthur stories teach, ah..." She scrambled to remember the moral of the Camelot stories, while King stared at her with such intensity she wondered if he thought her answer would reveal the meaning of life. "They teach about country before personal stuff." He looked away in disgust. "People don't really believe in King Arthur, but the stories still teach things."

His eyes turned back to give her a steady, cold look. "I met King Arthur. One of the Valkyries gifted him a sword, which she should not have done."

"Right. Pull the other one."

He looked at her with an exasperated expression.

"You don't have fairy tales where you're from?"

"There are legends, told to celebrate the virtues of heroes, their valor and daring, or told to warn of the treachery of long-standing enemies. These stories are based in fact and are told as part of the training a child needs to succeed in life. There may be exaggeration to the tales, but at base, they are true."

He tried the coffee again, his mouth puckering in bitter distaste. When he recovered, he explained, "The Aesir, as those of Asgard call themselves, are nothing if not practical. They do not pretend. They must remain vigilant. Many outside Asgard seek to force the city to their wills."

"Astoundo-land has enemies?"

"It has had enemies since its founding. The realms enjoyed peace for a short period of time, though some now say that peace was purchased at too high a price, that it brought corruption to Asgard's youth." His face still had a pinched look.

"Kids these days. Ruinin' the place."

"There is little room for frivolity on Asgard."

"Sounds grim, yo. Without games, how do you learn to use your imagination, or have, like, empathy?"

He arched his eyebrows. "In fact, few have imagination on Asgard. I may have been the notable exception. One cannot create a new thing without perceiving a need, without first imaging the process or the end. And one can play a game merely for the amusement therein. Most in Asgard value neither the new nor the pursuit of games without purpose."

He appeared thoughtful. "It is interesting that you humans expend so much time on falsehoods when your lives are defined as nasty, brutish and short, as I remarked to one of your philosophers many years ago."

"Bet he was thrilled."

"He was persuaded, in the end, to see sense about absolute rule. Which brings me to empathy." He looked directly into her eyes. "What use has it?"

Faith rarely had conversations like this. He didn't seem to be putting her down, at least.

"I guess when you see you are like other people, you realize those could be your shoes." She was speaking from experience. She still wasn't sure she had the empathy thing solved, but she tried.

"And what if you cannot wear their shoes? What if you are not like other men?"

"I used to think I was more special than anyone, being a Slayer." Faith shrugged her shoulders. "You get yourself into a lot of trouble you coulda avoided."

His eyes sparkled as his lips curled up in a thin smile. "I can handle trouble."

Faith thought he probably welcomed trouble.

She hadn't smoked in years, but for some reason, she really wanted a cigarette. He was making her feel edgy, like a wheel that needed oiling. Maybe that was the problem, it had been too long since she got with a guy. He was a psycho, though, according to S.H.i.E.L.D.

She remembered his crack about King Arthur. "You were here thousands of years ago and met King Arthur?"

"Yes. In truth, I barely remember Arthur. A would-be Roman struggling through the muck of an uncivilized fiefdom - not remarkable enough to interest me. His magician impressed me far more."

Faith felt conflicted. She kinda believed him, but nobody else would have, in her place.

He continued, "It was in Arthur's time that the fairies left this realm."

"I don't know whether to believe you or not."

His lips thinned. "It matters little to me."

"If you've been around for thousands of years, does that make you aliens the oldest creatures in the universe?"

His expression closed in. "No, we are not the oldest." He fell to eating in silence.

To fill in the awkward space, despite her reservations, Faith persuaded him to continue with, "Fairies really exist?"

He exploded in anger, "Of course they do. But why would you believe me?" Ouch, she must have touched a nerve. "Humans are incapable of perceiving the powers that surround them. If they chance to observe a wonder, they exercise their small imaginations to completely mischaracterize it, or lately, they dissect it and reduce it to fragments to fit the facts they believe they know. As humans are truly powerful only in the destruction of their world, many magical creatures have left this realm. Others stopped visiting eons ago. A realm without magic is truly pathetic." He put his knife and fork down for emphasis. "Humans have long denied the existence of other beings in the universe, while they remained so gullible as to assert almost any fantasy created by their own minds. They band together in fear and open hostility to the truth."

When he finished with this monologue, Faith challenged, "And your Assguarders are so much better?"

He smiled slyly. "Oh, I didn't say that. The Aesir, and to some extent the Vanir with whom they are in league, have lived in ossified societies for millennia. It is not that they fear change; they simply cannot comprehend it. When faced with change, they call it 'evil' or... give it other names."

"Does that mean you are afraid of change, too?"

He said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Would I be on Midgard if this were true? I welcome change as the well of inspiration and development. Not that change is always benevolent, but it _is_ the source of my strength." His eyes bored into hers with an interest so strong, it was almost hostile. "Do you fear change?"

"Would I be here if I did?"

His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure out if she was making fun of him. He must have decided she wasn't, because he let out a sharp laugh.

She murmured, "You guessed I was looking for something new, anyway."

He looked at her with obvious pleasure, and said, "It wasn't a guess."

She swallowed some coffee and remarked, "Your stories sound like human stories, not science fiction or other-world stuff."

He didn't look up from his plate. "Humans modeled much of their society on Asgard's. At one time, the gods visited this realm often, to hunt, to fish, to protect it from others who would exploit the weakness of those who live here."

She thought about how dangerous S.H.I.E.L.D. said he was. "It sounds like you know a little bit about human history, too. Of course, you could have studied us just so you could conquer us."

He scoffed. "Why would I spend my time in the study of humanity? I know all I need to know about mortals. They are gallingly susceptible to social pressure and show cruelty towards their own kind, almost unique in the universe. Humans are nothing more than glorified apes who refuse to know their place."

She had to stop shoveling food into her mouth at that statement. She decided she didn't want to continue the conversation, after all. "Gotta wash up. I'll meet you outside." She threw a hundred on the table and got up to use the restroom.

He seemed to withdraw into a subdued, disappointed resignation, then rose and without a word, walked towards the men's room. She hoped Barton showed him how to flush a toilet.

On the way out, King asked if it was necessary to leave money, especially as the waitress seemed to find it an unusual gesture. Faith explained that it was absolutely necessary, even for a prince or king, to pay for a meal and leave a tip.

"I've never paid, not even when traveling in the other realms. A petition to the palace was all that was needed. In Asgard, the palace cares for the needs of the people, so in that sense, they all labor for the king and are dependent on him for their sustenance. As Odin had been generous to his subjects, so were they loyal and proud to be his."

"Odin, that the king?"

King became really uptight. "Have you heard of him?"

"Name sounds familiar."

"A cunning man," King said cautiously. "Quite brave when required to be. Quite ruthless."

"It sounds as though you, as a prince, got anything you wanted."

He said after a pause, "Sometimes one wants not the elaborate lie embedded in the promises of a fairy tale, but the simple truth, plainly given."

"Everyone wants that, but nobody gets it."

As they returned to the bike, Faith realized that, until he got all megalomonolouse, she was almost drawn in by his charm and his easy company. She even started to feel that physical urge. Good thing he was so hard to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is evidence the Norse gods were worshiped in the Norse Bronze Age, c. 1700–500 BC. In this story, the characters from Asgard belong to an older, non-movie timeline, and have played a role in Earth's history.


	6. Cultural Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travel on a desert highway.

Back at the bike, Faith could tell King was still hung up on her paying for breakfast. She explained, "On Earth, we work for money. The cook and the waitress get wages for working. Didn't you work in Asgard?"

"I had my role, but I did not receive riches for it. I learned that it was important to have these pieces of paper in my previous sojourn in Midgard, but I never fully understood why."

She secured her bag. "Where did you get the forty thousand?"

"I played games for it in Las Vegas."

"Using what as a stake?"

"I had a vambrace I was able to trade for your currency. I still wear the other." He removed his jacket to reveal a cuff on his right arm that extended from his wrist to his elbow. It gleamed like warm sunlight and looked like pure gold.

Forgetting that they were standing outside a small restaurant, Faith reached over to examine the metal. The intricately worked surface depicted a lithe sea serpent frolicking in ocean waves, a fat, furry puppy rolling in a mountain meadow, and a beautiful little girl standing half in light, half obscured in shadow.

"This from Asgard?"

"Yes."

"It looks like gold."

"It is gold, with added elements to give it strength and resilience."

She shook her head. "Must be nice, bein' the prince."

"Asgard itself is adorned with gold."

"You're saying this is nothing special?"

"It was made for me, so in that sense, it is unique."

"This is worth a lot on Earth."

"Yet it was surprisingly hard to convince the tradesman to barter with me."

"Too bad you had to get rid of the other one."

"I can always retrieve it."

He slipped the jacket over his crisp white shirt, tipped with cufflinks of gold that held green gemstones. The gems looked like emeralds.

She never knew anyone who dressed as fancy as King. He wore a lot of clothes, too. Maybe he was trying to look bigger and more powerful than he really was. He was taller and broader in the shoulders than most men, but his clothes hung off of him, like he stopped eating a while ago.

His long jacket looked heavy, but it moved in fluid sweeps like his long, black hair. His hair was the blue-black of the silky flycatcher Manny pointed out to her once, but King's hair looked softer and glossier than the bird's feathers. She had a weird urge to touch it.

"You gonna wear all those clothes in this heat?" The dry, unrelenting desert bake had already started.

"Would my taking them off be an improvement?" He made a tiny smile, like he was laughing at her but wanted to keep it to himself.

"Just sayin', sweat'll probably ruin them."

"I only perspire in extreme heat, at temperatures that would destroy a meteorite entering your atmosphere."

Great, he didn't sweat. Just when Faith thought there was nothing left to dislike about him. "Guess you tested that meteorite thing."

He replied with casual indifference, "I did not enjoy the experience."

Faith thought this trip had to be worse than burning through the atmosphere. She put her jacket and helmet on, and got on the bike. When he did the same, she took off.

The glare on the road made it seem like they were traveling over a lake that came into view for long stretches, then sank to reveal a dull tar pit. This shifting vision and occasional road kill were the only things that broke up the monotony. Escaping by bike seemed like a romantic idea starting off, but just like the desert around Little Cruci, it turned out to be something far less exciting.

They stopped at a gas station. As usual, King got odd looks from the garage staff. She got the lingering, lecherous ones.

"They look at you as if they know you," King remarked as they stood in the shade of the garage, drinking Cherry Coke.

"Comes with the territory." At his puzzled expression, she clarified, "Knockout babe like me, bound to attract attention."

He frowned slightly. "You seek this sort of attention from men?"

"So long as I can pick and choose, sure." She wasn't going to apologize for her choices.

His head tipped to the side. "You could dress to command their respect."

"Well, that's the thing. I dress like this because I gotta be ready to fight. If fighting's what it takes, I can make anyone respect me."

He examined her clothes, circling her slowly. "I can see that these garments would give advantage -- little surface area to grab, and you have the protection of the heavier cloth of your trousers, and of course, the boots."

"What are you now, Tim Gunn?"

He smiled and continued his critique. "A leather jacket would offer protection in a fight, but yours is tight, hindering your movement."

"It also keeps me warm."

"Yet, given your battle garb, these men do not seem intimidated."

"They'd probably find me interesting in your clothes. It doesn't take much to turn guys on."

"You speak of sexual attraction."

She raised her eyebrows. "You've heard of it?"

"Of course."

Faith tore her mind away from that topic. She asked, "What do women on Asgard wear?"

"In general, they dress to provide a suitable complement to their titles. Some dress to allure. Theirs is a softer look than yours."

"Even your women fighters?"

He looked off into the desert. "Only one woman freely chooses to go into battle. She wears short, full skirts and a vest."

"Must get lots of respect dressed like a cheerleader."

He looked down at the ground. "Men respect her, but I concede it is due to her reputation or their experience in fighting her. In her way, she dresses to attract the attention of a certain male warrior."

Faith said in a thoughtful manner, "Your girl power's not so different from ours."

"Asgard has known valiant women warriors who are physically very strong, but even so, most women pledge their life in service to men in my realm. Our bravest woman warrior still follows her master's rule, or seeks to anticipate it if he is away. For the man to whom she devotes her life, a woman will betray her king." He stared into the landscape again. "She will even betray the children she once clasped to her bosom."

Faith gave him a long and wary look. She got on the bike. He obediently got on the back. He had given up touching her. She thought it was probably because she wasn't soft or alluring like the women he knew.

The landscape eventually filled with buildings, row after row of tract homes and strip malls. Faith could handle a lot, but with their slow and relentless pace, she was reaching the limits of her endurance.

She pulled the bike into a gas station around nine at night. A convenience store lit up a far corner of the station. After filling the tank, she asked King, "You hungry?"

He gave her a haughty and dubious look, but said, "If this hovel holds food worthy of eating, I might partake of a meal with you."

"That's a 'yes,' right?"

"Yes," he repeated like she was a slow child. "That is a yes."

"Maybe you can get it yourself, then."

Faith stormed into the small store wanting to knock the displays over. Once in the store, however, she bought two packages of Twinkies and two large cups of coffee. She poured out half his coffee and nearly emptied the sugar and milk containers into the cup. She didn't bother to stir it.

When she went outside, she found King facing a group of four teenage boys who had pulled up in a Humvee, blocking the bike's exit. They were all beefy and clean-cut, wearing those woven polo shirts rich kids and jocks liked. They looked well-fed and pleased with themselves. Dumb, too, taking on a guy King's size, no matter how he dressed. They probably thought four against one was a sure bet.

King was staring at them with his arms crossed over his chest, showing no concern.

"You know that's a girl's bike, right?" one thick-headed boy asked. This inspired his sidekick to exclaim, "Fits his long hair." The others hooted in agreement. "Girl's scarf, too," another boy jeered, making his friends crack up even more.

"Hilarious," Faith agreed, walking over to the bike. She said to King, "Much as they deserve to have their asses kicked, let's just get on the bike and leave."

An annoyed scowl crossed his face as his whole body became rigid. "Very well," he growled. "Must we leave the food?"

She handed him the tray. "Hold this."

Faith stowed the Twinkies in her bag, while King stood by the back of the bike holding the tray with coffee, waiting for her to get on.

This sent the gang of boys into waves of raucous laughter. "Ha, she gives the orders!" the biggest one said. "He even rides on the back like a pussy."

King looked ready to explode, his chin moving back and forth, one hand repeatedly rolling into a fist and releasing into a tight claw.

"Let me handle this," Faith murmured to him.

"By all means," King choked out. "Handle this before I am forced to."

"Right," Faith replied with a touch of skepticism.

Picking out the obvious leader, the blond kid a head taller and much brawnier than the rest, she walked up to him and said, "You don't want to get into this. My friend here, he's highly placed. He can make your life Hell."

"My dad's the county sheriff. He don't like degenerates in our area. You and your princess girlfriend ought to just run away now like you planned."

His friends were practically peeing themselves with guffaws. That made it easier for Faith to take them all down, one after the other, in a blur of blows and kicks, in matter of seconds, leaving the leader the only one standing. His mouth opened, dumbstruck.

"You can get used to the taste of dirt, too, or you can apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

Faith stared at him with an incredulous look on her face. "You know what, your father might like to apologize. Should I get the store owner to call him?"

"Yeah, why don't you?"

Faith made a fake move to kick him. He flinched back. Laughing, Faith said with as much derision as she could muster, "Forget it." She turned to go to the bike.

The lamp illuminating the lot went out at the same time a spatter of lights shot past her arm. She heard a heavy thud, followed by a solid slam and a metallic ping. She turned around to find the blond kid on the ground with what looked in the moon's light to be several small blades sticking out of his upper torso. His hand also had a blade sticking through it. On the ground next to his hand was a large gun.

"What the...?" She turned on King. "Did you do that?"

"You're welcome," King replied with terse anger.

"I told you I would handle it."

"He had a weapon."

"He probably just wanted to scare me."

"With your back turned?"

King stalked up to the boy, who was whimpering on the ground, his eyes round with fear. King roughly yanked his knives out of the boy's chest and hand.

One knife was lodged in the kid's neck. King reached for it with a malicious smile. In the moonlight, with his gaunt face, he looked like a grinning skull. The boy passed out.

"Stop!" Faith ordered in a panic. "Don't make this worse than it is."

"He attacked us with a deadly weapon. I was raised to eliminate those who attack me, or to take them into service. His will be an honorable and merciful death, far better than he deserves."'

"Come on. He's a stupid kid. He doesn't deserve to die because of it."

King looked as if he could scream in rage, but quickly brought his wrath down to a mild roar. "An enemy left alive may follow and renew his attack."

"Are they all like you in crazy world?" Faith stamped her foot in fury.

King was every bit as furious as she was. "Are you so soft you would let him go unpunished?"

"He'll be lucky his dad doesn't skin him alive." She walked over to the boy and looked at his neck. "Good thing you missed his jugular."

He snatched the last knife from the kid's neck. "I never miss. I spared him to meet his end as a man."

"That worked out great, considering he fainted."

"Very like the girl he accused me of being."

Faith shook her head in exasperation. She examined the guy on the ground. He wasn't bleeding too much. King had a great aim.

She said, "Let's go."

She looked around the station. There were cameras, but they weren't pointed towards the dark corner where the fight took place. She saw one of King's knives on the ground. He had thrown it to take out the light.

"Pick up the gun," she told King, She put her body between him and the nearest camera, just in case. She scooped up the last knife and followed him.

Back at the bike, she grabbed her coffee cup and drained it whole. King picked up the cup of sugary gunk and downed it without comment. She wanted to gag, but didn't have the time to spare.

Faith peeled out of town, trying to put as much distance between them and the town as possible. Once they crossed the state line, she began looking for a place to stop.

The strips malls had ended a while back. A group of small roadside curio stands came up. They might have been on a reservation.

She directed the bike into a narrow space between two stands. They could see anyone coming in either direction. She got off the bike.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"I have to stop."

There was a small Porta Potty behind the sheds. She headed for that. The urine stench made her stomach lurch, or maybe it was coming off an adrenaline high while trying to speed along a cold, empty highway.

When she came out, she went for her bag. King stood by the bike, gazing at the stars.

"I need to rest for a while," she informed him. "Think you can make yourself useful and watch the road while I sleep?"

He bristled. "I was useful at that way station. I saved your life."

"I suppose," she conceded.

"Your lack of enthusiasm does baffle me."

Faith shrugged her shoulders. "I'm trying to avoid trouble. I did time for killing a guy."

"I read your file."

"Yeah, of course you did." She got the packages of Twinkies and handed one to him. "Pretty cool ninja trick with the knives, by the way. Boss call with the lamp, too."

The compliments seemed to calm him down. "I have a gift for strategy," he explained quietly.

"Where'd you learn to fight?"

"In Asgard, we train for battle almost from birth."

"Everyone throws like that?"

"I developed my own style." He said this with a shy reluctance.

"Maybe you can show me sometime," Faith offered in a half-handed manner.

This caused him to perk up some more. "Perhaps you can demonstrate how you managed to overcome three adversaries in as many seconds."

Faith beamed, "Sure, I could do that. I gotta siesta first."

"I require little sleep, and it would take extreme conditions to tire me," he informed her, again. "Rest well, knowing that I will guard this night."

She was too tired to roll her eyes. "Just watch the road," she said, "and maybe the skies," she added, glancing up.

She curled up beside the bike, trying to make herself as compact as possible to save heat. To her surprise, he took off his long jacket and put it over her, explaining, "I don't feel the cold."

Normally, she would have protested. She was used to doing things on her own and didn't want to owe anyone favors. But the soft, heavy jacket covered most of her compressed body. The jacket was cold, but it soon became wondrously warm.

The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was his joyful expression after he bit into his Twinkie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phainopepla has red eyes and a tall crest, eats mistletoe berries, mocks the calls of other birds, and is the only one of its family that travels long distances.


	7. Outskirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adjustments.

Faith woke to the revving of a motorcycle engine. She sat up to see King speeding down the road in the blue dawn light. She jumped to her feet.

"Hey!"

He turned the bike to the side and stopped, smiling in delight, his teeth bright, his hair whipping round his head. He looked innocent and happy. He was so big on the bike, he reminded her of a teenager riding a supermarket rocking horse. Faith's impulse to scream at him fell apart.

He rode back to her and got off the bike with a smug expression. She rallied her indignation.

"What do you think you are doing?"

His response was subdued and cautious. "Isn't it obvious?"

"It's my bike."

"I have not harmed it."

"You didn't ask me."

He was genuinely flummoxed. "Why does this worry you?"

She grasped for an explanation that wouldn't sound petty. "You're way too obvious, for one thing. You're supposed to be guarding our position. Instead, you're riding around like you're in an Old Spice commercial. You're tall enough, anyone coming up the road could see you."

"Yet here we are, unmolested, despite the many vehicles that have already passed. Do give me some credit." He was examining the bike. "I would operate this machinery for the rest of our journey."

"I don't think so."

He looked at her with a steely gaze and said evenly, "I insist."

"Fat lot of good that'll do you."

"You have no reason to refuse."

"One, we don't have time. Two, it's my bike. It's all I have."

"You have my payment and promise of more."

"So buy your own bike." She fumed.

He hesitated slightly, then with a sly smile, took a more reasonable approach. "My driving will remove the burden from your shoulders."

Her eyes widened with astonishment. "That's a laugh. You treat me like your personal servant."

His voice became harsh. "I stood guard through the end of the night. Is that how a master behaves?"

He cooled down a little. His face crumpled, complete with puppy dog eyes, to let her know she was being unfair. "You do not believe I wish to play a more active role."

She wavered. She was often leery of trusting her own judgment. She never got used to giving orders. But she realized she didn't have to give in to him on this. "It's hard to believe anything about you."

After another pause, he turned into Mr. Science. "I understand all there is to know about this machine. The fuel mixes with air and ignites on contact with the spark made by this device. The up-and-down motion of these rods is converted into a circular movement..."

"Yeah, I know all that." She was actually surprised he figured so much out on his own. It took her a while to learn about engines. It was one of the few things she went out of her way to study.

He withdrew into remote coldness. "How, then, do I now displease you?"

"You're running every game in town on me, waiting for the fruit things to line up. Stop trying to play me." He must have really wanted to ride that bike.

He stubbornly insisted, "You are the one who requires rest. I am offering you a solution."

"Messing with my stuff isn't it."

"I thought you more than another shallow woman hysterically grasping at possessions," he said with derision.

"That's not gonna work, either."

She found it difficult to tell what he really believed and what he was willing to say to get her to change her mind. She could push back, though.

"I'm not the one having identity problems here. This whole thing is because of what those numb nuts said, isn't it? Calling you a girl. I thought you were smarter than that."

His eyes narrowed. "I am smarter than your mind can grasp. None but I is capable of knowing what I am. Those ignorant ants crawling on their bellies in the dirt could never comprehend my nature. Their opinions weigh less to me than the air that shifts the sounds from their mouths."

"Wow, I knew you had a high opinion of yourself, but..." Faith moved her arms in wild exasperation. "So what? You agreed that I'd be the one in charge. I say we keep going like we have been. I don't want to attract attention."

"Really?" His lips pressed together in a tight line. He stalked over to her and scowled, irritation etched in his face.

She met his scowl with her own. "We're still not in the clear, you know. Word gets around. Cops help each other."

"You said we were in no danger of being followed."

"I'm not really sure how bad you hurt that kid."

King threw his pale eyes to the sky and began to pace away. "The wounds were superficial. The sorrow is that he will continue to inflict his torment." King stopped and turned abruptly to face her. "And can I not accuse you of injuring his companions?"

"I stunned them."

He ground his teeth together. "If that is so, then what is your reason to fear?"

"We don't know what the kid told his father. If they came after us, we aren't the ones with knife wounds. I bet you have a record, just like me. Who's gonna listen to us? I'm not going back to jail."

He regarded her intently, then said, "Imprisonment is an outcome I endeavor to avoid, although I doubt most prisons in Midgard could hold me. Their jail could not hold you."

"Next time, they'll stick me in a hole where I'll never see the sun again." Faith breathed in hard and shook off a feeling of doom. "We should get going before business starts up here."

She went into the outhouse and came out to find King standing by the bike. She gave him his jacket. As he put it on, she remarked, "We have to get you some different clothes. These attract too much attention. Not practical, anyway."

He asked in a voice so quiet she almost had to lean in to hear him, "Do you believe we have finished our discussion?"

"Come up with your stories if you want, but it won't change my mind."

He snatched his helmet off the seat, ripped it in half, and threw one half at the toilet. The missile went straight through the walls, leaving holes in the plastic. After a few seconds, the portable building collapsed.

"You do not know to whom you speak." He was seething with rage, but he also seemed a little hurt beneath that.

"I can destroy things with my hands, too." She grabbed the remaining half of the helmet from him and crumpled it into dust, letting it pile up on the ground in front of his feet. "It's not that impressive."

He paused, then smiled in a surprised way. "It is, actually."

All the fuel went out of Faith's anger. "Look, I'm the driver, right? I'm calling the shots. That's what you said. If it makes you happy, think of it as me being servile. I don't really care."

His eyes clouded over with a threat of disagreement, but he said nothing. That made her more sympathetic than his blatant attempts to sway her. She asked, "Do you have a license?"

"No," he said in a clipped voice. "For what would I need license?"

"To drive! It's the OK from the state."

"How primitive. You humans require official sanction for your actions. You cannot simply stand and prove yourselves."

"You have to take a test to get a license."

"The rules meant to protect your kind will only steal their fire. To think, this was the world in which I thought to... live."

"Gee, K, it really sucks to be you."

She got on the bike. He remained standing.

"You wanted me to help you. But, hey, I can leave you standing right here and never look back."

He glared at her and shifted his body. He reminded her of a cat about to strike. She remembered the knives he had hidden in his jacket.

Instead of attacking her, he turned half his body away. "Leave, then. I will find the Braid in time, without what you style as help."

She tapped her lip as she thought, then sighed. "OK, you're right. We can't keep going like this. You're too big for this bike, for one. When we get to a decent-sized town, we'll figure something out."

He stood his ground for several moments, but eventually tied his hair in a knot at the back of his head, wrapped his scarf around his forehead, and got on the bike without a word.

In the afternoon, they came to the edge of a sprawling suburb. She headed towards a Motel 6, the VACANCY sign drawing her like a beacon. There was a Denny's nearby.

"Why do we stop in this township?" King asked.

"I'm tired and I'm hungry. I need a shower and more than a couple hours sleep on the asphalt. Besides, we gotta have a plan. I've walked in on demons, but only to fight them. Getting information is a new thing for me."

"I will come up with a suitable plan in Las Vegas."

"If I make it that far."

"Remind me: for what services am I paying you?"

"Can't you just go along with me on this?"

"It seems I have little choice."

"You're finally catching on."

She pulled up in front of the office, and told him to wait while she got a room. She came back with a couple of keys and handed one to him. "Room 120 on the end, this level. Office said they'd watch the bike." She took her few belongings off the motorcycle and went towards the room. He followed.

She opened the door to the room, flicked the light switch, and indicated the two beds. "Which one do you want?"

"I require no sleep."

"Fine, I'll take the far side."

"Is it proper for us to share a room?"

"Proper?" Was he for real? "Don't worry. I'm too beat to jump your bones."

"That gives me great comfort."

She smiled in her brazen way. "It should! I've never met a man who could get the better of me."

"I could do nothing at all and still be better than you."

She gaped at him in disbelief. "OK, but don't knock it 'til you've tried it."

"Don't presume to tell me how to act. I do what I want." He stormed out of the room, leaving the door open.

"King of drama," Faith said to the empty room after she closed the door. She took a shower, turned on the TV, and fell into the bed nearest the door.

Despite being warm and clean, she woke several times. Each time, she went to the curtains and parted them, peering out. Each time, she mentally kicked herself. Why did she care? He was an adult, or something close to it, over a thousand years old. Still, he wasn't from Earth and he seemed to attract nothing but grief. He seemed lost to her.

She hoped he took the scarf off, at least. People could mistake him for a gangbanger in a zoot suit with a bandana on his head. His life could get real complicated real fast.

In the morning, she opened the curtains again. He was outside the room, leaning against a post. His hands were in his pockets. The scarf was around his neck. He was still scowling, but she felt it was more from sadness than anger.

Faith threw her clothes and make-up on, grabbed her jacket, and went outside. "Let's get breakfast," she said. He didn't respond, but he did follow her.

They settled into a table at Denny's. The bright decor and screeching parents made her miss the Roadrunner. Faith ordered a waffle plate and orange juice. He ordered the same.

"I'm sorry for ridin' your case," Faith started. He didn't respond. "I'm used to doing things on my own. Even when I worked with others, it was a tough fit. So, it's not that I don't like you..."

He interrupted in a chilly voice. "If I required you to like me, then I would make you like me. But as I do not require this, I only ask that you show me the respect I deserve."

Faith knocked the end of her knife on the table several times to calm down. "Fine," she said. "I'll do my best. Are we good?"

"You and I? Good?" A bitter grimace filed his face as he cast his eyes to the side.

"So I guess being friends is out?"

His face set into a stubborn frown. "I learned long ago that Loki is alone."

Her heart filled for him. She thought she had problems trusting people. He was so alienated he talked about himself in the third person.

He looked at her, his eyes flashing accusation. "What causes this apology to me? You do not regret your behavior or your words."

"Honestly, K? I want to find this Braid-thing. I mean, I want to be there to keep an eye on you when you find it, to make sure you don't foul things up." She stared at him with determination.

His voice became smooth with amusement. "You are very free with the truth. Have you ever considered lying? It would suit your purposes much better."

"You know, I never got in the habit of lying. Never needed to. I guess I was just too dumb as a kid and when I got older, I could fight my way out of most spots."

He threw his eyes at the ceiling in exaggerated boredom.

She continued, "I tried to lie once, whole nine. Funny thing, I found out the people I was lying to were also lying to me, round the clock, and doing a better job. It was a real shock. Here I thought I had it under control, and I ended up being the one who felt betrayed. So, long story: I don't lie."

His face was set in stone while she talked, but his eyes moved through many expressions as he listened.

Her voice got a little quieter, "And even that's not true. I got so caught up recently in lying about who I was, who my friends were, I tried to kill someone who really did have my back. And more recent, a whole group of people decided they never want to see me again because I kept the truth from them."  This was a big part of her leaving England. "I guess everyone lies, especially to themselves."

King's face had settled on impassive. "Not all gods require confession."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, I'm sorry, 'cause I know this new planet must be difficult for you and all."

"This world?" he snickered.  His whole attitude told her she was being ridiculous.

"Excuse me for caring."

He asked with mild hostility, "Do you now expect me to apologize to you for ... I know not what?"

"Since you put it that way: no, I don't want you to lie to me."

He looked at her with a penetrating stare, before lowering his eyes to examine his hands, which were flat on the table. "You asked if we are good. In the sense you mean, I believe we are."

They ate in silence. As they were finishing, he mentioned in a casual voice, "You said I should purchase more appropriate clothing. There's a shop nearby."

"I'm in."

He smiled with genuine enthusiasm for the first time that day.

Faith paid the bill. She considered telling him that on her world, men were expected to pay for their things, but decided that she really didn't care about paying for a couple of meals.

He led her to the store. It sold all types of men's clothes, but mostly casual wear.

King knew exactly what he wanted. His taste was top-notch, and the clothes he chose were amazing on him. Faith had noticed his lean body despite his long coat, to her annoyance, because she was following a strictly hands-off policy. But in tight jeans and a fitted shirt, she couldn't stop staring at him.

And yet, despite his fine clothes and fine manners, he was trouble from head to toe. He was like one of her loser-musician ex-boyfriends. His hair was black and long. His movements were sinuous. His eyes were hungry. His body, well, everything about him looked starved. He had a habit of licking his lips. That trickster smile... it drew her in. That's why it ticked her off so much. Going his way was the path of destruction.

King topped his outfit with a long but light leather jacket. It covered enough of his vital areas to put Faith's mind at ease.

"How does this appear to you?" he asked, with a mocking smile.

"You look... all right. I mean, I won't mind being seen with you. You know... not terrible." What, was she twelve again?

"Not terrible?" he said with laughter in his voice. But after her stumbling compliments, he became taller and broader, and even more superior to his surroundings.

"You don't have to puff up like a ... like that."

He put on his insufferable smile, gathered his old clothes, and asked the cashier to wrap them while she paid for his new ones.

On the way back to the motel room, she said, "It's crazy how I'm paying for everything."

"You have all the money," he stated without being bothered at all.

She drew a few twenties out of her bag and passed them to him. "You should learn to handle cash."

"I can't imagine it will prove complicated." Even so, he frowned at the money as if it was yet another thing that deeply offended him.

He took the bills and stuffed them in the front pocket of his jeans. Faith watched that transaction a little too closely. Did he know about underwear? An interesting fullness was happening down his right pants' leg. The word "giant" sprang into Faith's head, like something triggered by the lizard king part of her brain.

He noticed her fixation and looked at her in a questioning way. "Is something wrong?"

With relief, she thought of the knife she'd picked up from the ground the night before. She reached into _her_ front pocket and pulled it out. "I just remembered, I've been meaning to give this back to you."

She turned the knife over in her hand. It was a gleaming curve of silver, edged on all sides, perfectly balanced, small enough to hide in a pocket, molded to fly without resistance, long enough to be deadly if thrown with enough force at the right target. She had no doubt he could have killed that kid if he wanted to.

"I see you possess an appreciation for knives."

"Yeah, it's a thing with me."

"You may keep it, if it pleases you."

"Thanks, but I got a knife."

"Perhaps you will allow me to see it some day."

She handed the throwing knife back to him and continued to the motel.

When they got to the room, Faith informed him, "We have to check out at eleven. We should talk about what we're gonna do in Vegas."

His air of casual ease had not dissipated. "I will engage in games of chance and win, accumulate the funds we need to continue this quest, and see you well-compensated for your efforts."

"All that and modest, too."

He gave her a knowing look.

"If winning is all you did last time, I'll bet your face is plastered all over Vegas. Card counters never get a second chance."

"I choose to read others, not count cards. I play against the individuals of Midgard, not against the house."

She scrunched up her face in thought. "Demons love to play card games."

 


	8. Games of Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki meets some demons.

It took them less than an hour to reach the big casinos. Faith stopped near an elaborate water display. She watched it with wide eyes and an open smile.

"They say it's even prettier at night."

King barely glanced at the dancing water. He was far more interested in the people around them.

"Where did you stay the last time you were here?" she asked.

"I played as long as I needed to collect the money you now have. I left Las Vegas when I had done so."

"I was hoping you'd know of a motel or something."

"There was a hotel near the establishment that purchased my vambrace. I should like to visit the owner, in any case. He keeps the clothes in which I arrived."

"If he's still around," Faith said.

He looked pointedly at her, and asked, "What mean you?"

"You were ripped off, whatever he paid you for something probably worth a thousand times more."

"Of course I was cheated, but I had few options. Short of violence, from him I could get no more money. It was prudent to avoid violence. I tried to convince him, but he had met better storytellers than I. I doubt he will leave, however, or try to sell the item. He was far too greedy, though he did give me the clothes I wore when I met you, at no charge."

"How did you even find this guy?"

"He was in a store that advertised 'CASH.' "

"Let's pay him a visit."

They went to an older part of town, not far from the Strip but far from the usual tourists. A pawn shop stood near the end of the block. A two-story brick hotel loomed across the street. Faith stopped at the corner.

"That's the place?"

"Yes." King slid smoothly off the bike and informed Faith, "I will talk to the proprietor."

"Want backup?"

His face filled with disdain.

"I'll check in at the hotel, and wait for you there."

His eyes took in the surrounding street. "How long must remain we here?"

"Can't say."

He struck off towards the pawn shop. She watched him go in, then went to the hotel.

She got a room and waited for King in the faded lobby with its empty picture windows, deflated checkered sofas, and ragged brown throw rug. The desk clerk watched soaps on a small television, but every commercial break, he'd glance over and leer at her. She didn't care. She just hoped this wasn't the kind of place where she would hear crying in the hallways or fighting from the rooms.

When King finally came striding into the hotel, Faith sauntered up to him with a grin. He looked like he wanted to call thunder down from the sky. She handed him a key, grabbed their bags, and went up to the room. As usual, he followed, so preoccupied with whatever was going through his mind that he didn't notice that she was carrying their things, not that she was offended. She was strong enough to carry a couple of bags, and they hardly owned anything between them.

A half-hour later, they hit the streets, taking a cab to one of the larger casinos. The place was full of well-fed people in shorts clutching cups of coins as they milled through crowded lobbies of flashing lights and tinny noises. King smirked at the humans, but his eyes also followed them sharp as a hawk watches its prey.

King got a few thousand in chips and went to the poker room. The room had no space for bystanders. It didn't have a bar or television. There was nothing but tables and straight-backed chairs with padded seats. The room was painted a neutral shade of beige and the walls were bare.

Faith found a bar outside the room that had a direct line of sight to the poker room so she could watch him play. It was too far away to see the actual cards, but she could see the rest of the action.

King glided around the room slowly, sizing up the players. To her surprise, he bypassed tables with seniors deep in grim concentration and Midwest tourists goggling at the glitz and glamor. He chose a table with three young Silicon Valley types, dressed down in jeans, hoodies and in-joke t-shirts, but with shoes and watches worth more than Faith would have made in a year at Sueño Azul. The guys were married to their phones. Despite this, Faith figured they had to be the smartest people in the room, and brutally competitive.

As King introduced himself, he looked kinda star struck and nervous, showing them his chips and laughing apologetically. They invited him to sit down, throwing predatory glances at each other. King asked a question of one guy with a shaved head, then motioned to the circulating cocktail waitress. She brought a round of tall drinks to the table. Faith noticed that the others were chatty and overly friendly. They may been taking something before King got there.

King started out either raising or folding and nothing else. The game was laid-back for about ten minutes. King used this time to watch the others. His eyes moved so quickly and focused so intently, she felt like she was looking at the inside of a computer running through its calculations. She could see when he recognized a player's tell, the flash of knowledge and satisfaction that ran across his face.

A short guy in glasses and floppy hair, with an apologetic manner, couldn't stop checking his phone. He frowned when he was about to throw it in, which was practically every hand that he didn't excuse himself from.

A guy with a sleazy bearing and roaming eyes made quick bets, probably hoping he'd be lucky, and started running through his money. His eyes widened in panic when his hand was weak, but he hung in there with an air of desperate hope.

The third guy was tall, bald and arrogant, sneering at the others. He was pushy, raising no matter what he was holding. He tapped his finger when he didn't have the cards to back up his aggression. King began to call. The guy took losing personally, foaming at the mouth for revenge. He had to get new chips at one point. He wasn't gonna stop playing no matter how much he lost. 

Faith didn't know how King could stand their company, but a little over an hour after he started to play, he had most of their chips next to him and the guys at the table were chaotic messes.

Two well-dressed, perfectly-made-up girls, friends of the guys, arrived at the table. A perky blonde left with the relieved phone-sitter. The other, a dark-haired beauty, was encouraged by her friends to stay.

King appeared annoyed by her arrival, but he swallowed his irritation and made polite conversation with her. She wasn't bad at poker. She was probably sober, though. Everyone else at the table had been drinking non-stop, like all the alcohol was set to evaporate at the end of the night.

The girl was rapt in conversation with King. Soon enough, out came his sad eyes and tiny frown. He was weaving some sob story. Faith could see it, but the girl couldn't. She looked like she wanted to take him home, put a blanket on his shoulders, and feed him. She not only started making lunatic moves in the game, she gave him hints on the other players with her eyebrows. He acted confused, but when she wasn't looking, his face became cold, as if her help was only what he deserved.

Faith had had enough. She didn't like seeing him take advantage of some stupid person's good heart. It was one thing to take the girl's money, but who knows what else he had in mind? Faith remembered that she had felt bad for King, too, thinking he was lonely and lost. Was that just a trick on his part?

She got off the stool and walked up to King in the poker room. "There you are, rascal," she said in a light, merry tone. His eyes narrowed. "Time to cash in, Maverick," she suggested, sidling up to him. "Let's find those legendary demon pleasures that Vegas has to offer." Faith smiled at his would-be rescuer, who glared at her with resentment.

Her response was nothing to King's. Although he rose from the table with grace and made his apologies, when they left the room, he pulled her roughly into an alcove off the main casino floor.

"What was the purpose of that display?" he hissed. "I was winning handily."

"You were bleeding them dry."

"That is their purpose."

"You serious?"

"Entirely. I am here to win, not mete out charity to the mortals."

"And who knows what else you had in mind after you took that girl's money."

"I had nothing in mind. She would have left, to be replaced by others."

"So women are expendable to you, like Kleenex, one blow and toss it?"

His brow furrowed. "Are you... jealous, of that female?"

"Of someone dumb enough to believe your lines? Come on. I bet you perfected that lame "poor little me' act on your mother."

His face went still as he stated in a rigid voice. "Never speak of my mother again."

Faith felt a chill. She'd messed up again. "OK. I'm sorry."

He turned away, his face a stony mask.

"I just don't like to watch the way you treat people, playing games with them."

His voice was quieter. "I was told that Las Vegas is the realm of games. And I did not ask you to watch me. One would think you felt it unsafe to be outside your sight."

She didn't want to admit that she liked watching him. "Well, I gotta hand it to you, GQ: you can play poker."

He began to thaw out. "It is a simple enough game. The trick is to never fear chance."

"You got a lot more than tricks goin' on."

The compliment made him even more friendly. His mouth formed a shy smile.

"Let's go to the bar," she offered. "I'll let you pay, seein' as how you're the big winner."

Faith ordered a drink for herself. When she was served, he asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Rum and coke. Want to try it?" She held out the glass to him.

He seemed alarmed by this familiar gesture. "Purchase one for me. I am going to find the men's room."

She looked at him steadily and she said, "You still think I want to serve you?"

"Have you else to do?"

"I could find something." Faith openly surveyed the patrons at the bar, before settling on a rotund man with slicked-back, black hair, a curl at his forehead, long sideburns running the length of his face.

King followed her gaze and turned back, his eyebrows raised at her selection. "Is this the sort of mate you seek?"

"Not that it's your business, but I am not 'seeking' anyone."

"No, they seek you."

"Whatever. At least I don't lie to them."

"You believe I have lied to you?"

The question threw her. She really didn't know.

He huffed, "I will return shortly."

His long legs carried him towards the restroom, Faith watching him the whole way. He stood over a foot taller than the tallest person in the room. He cut a graceful path through a field of bodies that parted automatically to let him pass.

The hefty guy made a beeline for Faith as soon as King left.

"Hi, little lady. I noticed you lookin' at me. Can't say I blame you. Ladies love the King."

"Good thing I'm not a lady."

He curled his upper lip and struck a karate pose. "Are you lonesome tonight? Wanna get all shook up?"

A proposition by an Elvis impersonator. Faith thought her life couldn't get any more strange.

"You're cute, but El Vez is more my speed. Also, I'm with a friend," she said.

"The tall guy with the hair? No offense, but he seems gay. Return to sender. Not what a woman like you wants."

"I want to hang out with my friend." Maybe being flat-out honest would get rid of him.

"Don't be cruel, honey. Look at what you'd be passing up." He flashed a lazy smile and swiveled his hips. "You can't help falling in love with this."

"Thanks, but no."

He grabbed her arm. "Women swoon over the King."

King came up to loom behind his Vegas namesake. "I would like to visit the kingdom where this is true."

The guy tried to swing around and catch King off-guard. He found himself face down on the floor, King's boot on his neck.

"You will apologize to the lady, and you will leave, quietly, or I will snap your neck before any can tell it has happened. Ask her to forgive your regrettable lapse in manners, or we will walk away and leave you on the ground, another drunk having found misfortune, to be scraped off the floor like an after-thought." King paused for a moment, before adding jauntily, "Your choice."

"Get lost," Elvis said in a small voice, followed by a squeal as King drove his foot harder into the man's neck.

"Look, it wasn't his fault," Faith started to explain. King ignored her.

"I'm waiting," King said, a lilt in his voice.

"I'm sorry," the guy finally wheezed out.

King reluctantly stepped back. His face was alive with restrained fury. "Now bow down and beg for her mercy."

"That's not necessary," Faith said.

The unfortunate Elvis hesitated, and King stepped on his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the guy blurted out, stumbling to his knees. He waited for further instructions.

"Go," King ordered. The guy scampered off, holding his hand.

"You didn't have to do that," Faith challenged. "I was handling it."

"Forgive me. It sounded as though you did not desire his attention. If you wanted him, you should have indicated this to me." King was still hot under the collar. "I do not understand mortal mating rituals."

"I wasn't gonna mate with that guy."

"Isn't he your type, as you said?"

Faith looked at him in exasperation. "What are you talking about? You don't know me."

He paused to collect his tumultuous emotions. "I suppose I do not." He stood awkwardly, looking at the floor. 

Faith didn't expect an apology from him. In fact, she could tell he was already rebounding to a new idea. He changed moods like leaves filtered the sun on a windy day.

And sure enough, his face became animated, which told Faith that he had seen something new and interesting. 

"There is a spectacle here," he confided.

"A what?"

"Dancing and music."

"A show? Well... maybe we can get food there."

Before they could head off, a refrigerator in a suit, a man no taller than Faith but probably five times her weight, walked up to them to block their way. He flashed a badge. "There was an altercation here a few minutes ago. Head of security would like to talk to you."

Faith started, "Look, we don't want trouble. We'll just..." She stopped as she noticed another set of eyelids, closing from the sides. "Head of security, huh? Lead the way."

King looked at her with curiosity. When the bouncer turned away, she mouthed the word "demon" to King. He fell in line behind the behemoth, Faith hurrying after them as they stalked through the casino. At some point, the bouncer was joined by two others just as big. King walked among them serenely, as if he was being escorted to his coronation. Faith thought, "The guy has balls."

The guards led them to a room lined with television monitors. King surveyed them calmly with raised eyes, before making one of his suppressed smiles and fixing his gaze on the massive figure sitting at a desk. Faith and King were positioned next to a stripper pole in front of the desk. Faith hoped they wouldn't have to audition.

The bouncer announced, "Here he is, Mr. Newton."

Newton got right down to business, not looking up from the paper in front of him. "We noticed you playin' poker earlier. You were good, maybe a little too good. Then we noticed you have a few words with that King clown who was coming on to your woman. You were fast the way you handed The King. There was only one conclusion we could come to."

"Oh?" King was obviously enjoying the meeting, an unconcerned smile plastered on his face.

Newton looked up at him. "You're a demon." He stared at King with a look of satisfaction at having exposed him.

"Am I?" King's smile broadened.

Newton stared a little longer. "What else could you be?"

After waiting a few seconds for Newton to say something more, King cocked his head to the side, and asked, "Was there something you needed from me and my lady?"

Newton spoke to one of the guards. "Mansell, bring Frankie in here." To King he said, "Frankie can tell what kind of demon you are. He can smell it."

"I'm sure I will enjoy that," King replied.

Frankie was reed-thin and knobby, bent in the middle as if someone had slugged him in the stomach and he never recovered. He was a demon who didn't try to hide it. His skin was green and his eyes were yellow. King examined him in fascination. Faith frowned. The demons were being too open with their secrets.

After lifting his nose in the air and sniffing a few times, Frankie proclaimed, "He's not human. I don't know what, but he's not human. She's got some demon or something in her."

Faith stepped up to Frankie. "Take that back!"

King's eyes widened in surprise, but he remarked confidentially, "I may have been in her earlier."

Newton and the guards guffawed loudly, enough to miss Frankie's, "No, that's not it." Faith's mouth fell open at King's blatant and insulting lie, but she guessed he was getting back at her for walking in on his winning streak. King, for his part, was looking at the men with an appraising eye.

He finally said, "Is this arrangement common, demons working in casinos?"

Newton answered, "We got the security on the strip tied up." His voice became more familiar. "We could use a guy like you, quick, I mean real quick, in thinking and action, and, you know, different in body type from us. That could come in handy."

King beamed with delight."You're offering me a job!"

"Glad you're so excited about it."

"Oh, I can't accept." He started laughing.

"We pay well. Ask anyone."

"You're offering me a job," King repeated in disbelief.

Newton's mood became noticeably darker. "It's not meant to be a joke, Mister, ah, Mister..."

"King," he helpfully supplied.

Newton nodded to the bouncer, who grabbed Faith's arms and held them behind her back. She rolled her eyes.

Newton spat out, "King, you say. Like the guy you just decked. Funny. Only not so funny now, is it?"

King was practically choking with laughter. "It gets better and better."

Newton sicced the two guards on King. Despite their heft, King tossed them against the wall like rag dolls. As they slumped down, he remarked lightly, "Puny demons." He swung the upper half of his body around to turn on Frankie, who wisely scooted out of the room.

Faith, meanwhile, had stepped on her captor's insole, which had almost no effect, then slammed her head hard against his nose. He let her go of her and she turned to battle him. Before she could do worse damage, King grabbed the pole and, pulling it from its anchors, swung it like a staff, hitting the demon squarely on the face, knocking him against the wall. King then broke the pole in two and turned one half on Newton, impaling a hand that had been pulling out a gun.

King's face was furious as he hissed to Newton, "I visit your town looking for a high stakes game that would prove a challenge, and all I find is more pathetic humans against whom to play, followed by their demon servants. My lady and I will be off."

He let loose the pole and walked over to Faith, placing his arm around her waist as if to walk her out. She raised her elbow, aiming to knock the air of out him, but he whispered, "Not yet." Louder, he said, "I know you want me, but wait until we are out the door at least, pet."

She ground her teeth together, and mumbled, "Can't wait to show you how hot you get me."

As they turned to leave, they faced a new demon in the doorway. He was built like the large ones, but had red- and black-spotted, calloused skin. His eyelids closed from the sides over solid black eyes. He spoke without moving his mouth.

"I share your dislike of humans," he said.

King made a haughty examination of the undisguised demon. "They have some use." He hugged Faith tighter to his body and flashed the most lecherous grin she'd ever seen.

The demon burbled with laughter. "That use, yes, and they are good for sustenance in many ways. But they are pathetic at poker."

"To my benefit."

"I regret that my colleague insulted you. He is not as good a judge of character as he thinks. If you still seek a high stakes game, there is one coming up, among those of our kind. 3375 Polaris tomorrow night, at nine. Tell them Number Two sent you."

King bowed slightly and said, "I may do that. Now, we were interrupted on our way to your show."

The demon ordered one of the disgraced guards to find a place of honor for Mr. King and his female, meal and drinks on the house. They ended up at a table at the front center of the stage.

After they were seated and the guards went away, Faith got up to leave.

King remarked, "Wouldn't you rather stay and eat?"

"Like you said, I don't have to hang around and watch you." She was tired of all the things she was feeling about him. Now that he had his demons, he probably didn't need her anymore. She had to think that was a good thing.

"You must eat at some point," he said reasonably. "Or do you now trust me to behave when left to my own devices?"

She remembered the Braid and sat down. She was committed to staying with him until he found it.

He turned to observe the gyrating dancers, who were interpreting some mythological theme that involved warriors, maidens, steaming craters and snow-covered mountain tops. He acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Faith, still furious, read the menu. She pushed a menu at him to get his attention. He ignored it.

"You already know what you want?"

"I'll order whatever you order."

"I was going to order steak and salad."

His face fell in disappointment as he turned to her. "Do they have waffles?"

"Not at this time of day." Faith watched his brows dip as he examined the menu. "You might like lobster. You eat shellfish, right?"

"I think so," he said, uncertain.

"You'll probably like it, and if not, we can get it wrapped and order something else."

When the waiter left, he stated, "I thought it best to not expose your skills to the demons as we may need those skills later."

"By expose, you mean strip me naked and parade me in front of your new pals," Faith shot back at him. "'I put a little demon in her.'"

"I didn't use the word, 'little,'" he objected. He casually looked towards the ceiling, indicating the security cameras. "We will discuss this later. But know I did not mean to offend you."

"I hope you find what you're looking for at that game. I'm getting tired of your BS."

"I would be sorry to lose your company."

"Why, because you won't be able to make jokes at my expense?"

"Because I'm just starting to have fun," he said in a small voice.

She sighed and excused herself to go to the restroom. Once there, she kicked a trashcan a couple of times, destroying it.

A red-headed woman coming out of a stall smiled wryly. "I saw him. Looks high maintenance."

"You don't even know," Faith said, balling her fists.

"Or maybe he's a psychopath gearing up for a killing spree."

"What?" Faith's anger drained away, replaced by unease.

"You never can tell," the woman said casually, as if this was a normal conversation. She scrutinized Faith's face, looking for her reaction.

"Actually, I can tell. I've seen worse."

"I'm sure you have." The woman had an accent, sounded Eastern European. She continued to look at Faith closely. "He's cute, though."

"All talk and no action," Faith said, trying to distance herself from the stranger.

"How about you? Are you enjoying your trip?"

"Did I miss the part where I know you?"

"I could be a friend."

"Is this a Vegas thing, trying to pick up some action in a bathroom?"

The woman was about to say something else, but changed her mind, smiled, and left. Faith kicked the wall, leaving a crumbling indentation, then went into a stall to take some deep breaths.

She eventually went back to the table to find King tearing into a lobster with both hands. He showed complete enjoyment at utterly demolishing the thing, scoffing at the instruments they gave him. For someone who laughed at being offered a job, one that was similar to the job Faith got the same way, he ate like a deckhand. She wondered if they all ate like that where he came from. Maybe he just liked ripping things apart as much as she did. She got tired of restraining herself sometimes.

A plate of steak and a bowl of salad sat next to a plate of waffles and two rum and Cokes. She sipped her drink and, indicating his, said, "Your drink, Your Highness." She had been trying for sarcasm, but he smiled broadly and tried the drink. He dipped his head in a regal bow of approval and fixed a sly grin on his face. Faith had to stop herself from laughing her drink up her nose.

King asked, "What is the significance of 'GQ'?"

"It's a men's fashion magazine. Why do you ask?"

"You called me 'GQ' a while ago, not 'K.' I understood what 'K' stood for, of course, and I knew the intent of 'GQ,' but I don't have the cultural background to know its derivation."

"It's like you're talking English, but I don't get what you're saying." She sipped her drink slowly. It must have been half rum. No watered-down drinks for the friends of Number Two. "How do you know English, anyhow?"

"Those from my country have the ability to understand and make themselves understood in all languages. We also know the meaning behind all words and sounds that substitute for words. What many in my land lack is an understanding of outside cultures and customs."

"The language thing must come in handy when you travel. I wonder if it will work on demons."

"They speak languages different from humans?"

"To each other. Most can speak human, though, or something close to speaking, you know, clicking noises and grunts." She sipped her drink, an appalled expression on her face. "Man, listen to me. What a life." She shook her head in amazement.

He didn't reply, but sat still, regarding her face for a while. Then, he turned towards the stage to watch the nearly-naked dancers fall over each other in what Faith thought was meant to be a battle scene. The warriors, men and women, were topless for some reason. Streamers of red glitter blood flowed across the stage.

For someone who seemed prudish, King was not scandalized by the nudity and suggestive behavior of the dancers. When Faith asked him about it, he said that Las Vegas reminded him of Vanaheim. He'd mentioned the Vanir before. Faith guessed they were another group of aliens. They probably weren't out looking for demons.

That's when she decided that she was going to get as drunk as she possibly could. The drinks were on the house, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Failing the Bechdel Test.


	9. Tales of Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki explains it all for you.

Faith and King spent the rest of the day and night strolling the Strip, drinking rum and Cokes, and watching shows. Doing this was ridiculously wasteful of their money, but thanks to King, they had ridiculous amounts of it. Most of the shows were too middle-of-the-road for Faith, but King's face reflected such uncomplicated joy at seeing the cheesiness on display, watching him was all the fun she needed. It was like he'd been starved of entertainment along with everything else. A smart guy like him could probably entertain himself, though.

They wound up around ten in a small, dark bar with a pool table in the back. Faith decided to teach him how to play.

King ordered drinks. While waiting for the table, he got into a conversation with a guy who was watching replays of a boxing match. Faith was surprised King could come down off his throne long enough to ask questions that showed how much he didn't know, and ask them of a stranger who was probably a work-a-day Joe like Faith. He had an endless curiosity.

When they got the table, Faith thought she could beat him at pool. She was wrong. It was like King was born with a cue stick in his hand and the money ball in his pocket.

She didn't care, though, because it was a great excuse to observe his fluid body and the changing expressions of his face. King slid along the table, making graceful turns, leaning back as he bent over, measuring his shots with thoughtful concentration, flashing a satisfied grin when the balls found their targets.

At some point, she realized that he was watching her as closely as she was watching him. She chalked that up to his competitiveness and desire to know about everything. And maybe she was trying to show off some of her moves. Not that it helped.

"You're supposed to lose the first few games," she advised with careless abandon. He had done just the opposite. "Make it seem like you're getting out-of-control drunk. That way, you lure them in. You place reckless bets and make it seem like you're stupid. They buy it, and think you're the easy mark. Then you swoop in and win." She finished off her drink. "That's how I learned to play."

"You did not practice this technique on me."

"Didn't tell you all you needed to know. You figured it out, though, even if I tried to get one over on you."

He sipped his drink and looked at her from under his eyelids, musing, "Humans can be remarkably dishonest and predatory."

She grinned. "Yeah, showin' my dark side. Forget I said anything about it."

His face showed only indifference. "This aspect of human nature troubles me not at all. Does it trouble you?"

She fumbled for the right thing to say, her forehead wrinkled with worry. "It's not supposed to be that way. People are supposed to be good. I'm trying." She realized she was babbling. "I should just shut up now."

"Lady Faith," he said with sweet sympathy, "I believe it is time we returned to our lodgings."

Floating on a river of alcohol and sugar, Faith headed to their hotel with King. It was a let-down to go back to such a down-and-out place after touring the luxe establishments of Vegas, after being in a cozy bar where they acted as if they had all the money in the world and the place to themselves.

When they came into the hotel lobby, the new man behind the desk took a long look at Faith. As they headed up the stairs, he whispered to King, "Psst, buddy. Need some protection?" Faith watched this, swaying at the turn halfway up the stairs. She almost burst out in giggles.

King's face showed both consternation and impatience as he turned to the desk clerk to ask, "To what do you refer?"

The clerk came out from behind the desk and handed him a couple of packages. "I'll just put them on the bill." He winked and went back behind the counter.

King stood there staring at the little square packets in his hand, his eyebrows curled in confusion. "Against what do these protect?"

"The girl, of course."

"I do not believe she means to harm me."

"Better to be safe than sorry."

"She is bound in service to me."

"Listen, I don't need to know what you get up to. Just keep the noise down."

King closed his hand around the packets and followed Faith up to the room. Once inside, she let loose with laughter. He didn't think it was funny.

"This innkeeper has suggested I need protection from you."

"Not me. Diseases."

"I have no diseases. Do you?"

"It's for sex. You know... mating."

"I know what sex is," he said sharply. In a puzzled tone, he asked, "Is mating a dangerous matter for your kind?"

"Those things are a barrier against disease. They also prevent pregnancy."

He turned the packages over in this thin, elegant fingers. "Do you use these to avoid pregnancy?"

"A Slayer with one foot in the grave and a baby on her hip -- not the best combo."

The full intensity of his green gaze was upon her. Alcohol seemed to make his eyes darker. "You haven't answered my questions."

"Um... no, I don't have any diseases. And, no, I don't always use these. Happy?"

"Will you tell me why?"

"Why I don't have diseases? I don't know. Luck, maybe, or maybe because I'm a Slayer."

"And the other?"

This was more difficult to explain. "A Slayer's life is counted in days, not years. Might as well live those days to the fullest."

"Even if you become diseased?"

"It's not like it matters."

He looked at her with incomprehension. "Is your life that valueless to you?"

Faith put on her brusque, joie de vivre attitude. "It is what it is. It won't last forever. I know that."

"What if it could last forever? Would your choices be the same?"

"If it could last forever?" She felt dizzy and unfocused. "Forever on my own would be a long time." She barked out a laugh. "But who am I kidding? There is no forever."

"I have been told that those who become Slayers will live two-to-three years beyond the date they are chosen, yet you have already beaten those odds."

She collapsed on the bed and rolled into a ball. "I know, but the house always wins."

He smiled his secret smile. "Perhaps not always."

The room seemed warm and soft. The weak light from the lamp on the nightstand gave the space the red glow of a sky after sunset.

He lay down on his bed. His legs hung over the end, but he didn't complain. Maybe the alcohol was affecting him. She could hold her liquor, but he seemed to be able to swallow a sea's worth without showing signs of being drunk.

"I have grown unaccustomed to traveling with a companion," he said to the ceiling.

"I travel alone, too, but that's shot to Hell."

He hesitated before offering, "I can procure another room, if you wish."

"We stand a better chance of protecting each other if we share, if those demons come around. Unless you don't want to share a room."

He let out a light laugh. "This argument reminds me of when I was a boy, hunting with Thor. I wanted to sleep on my own, but he always insisted on sharing, no matter how long our journey. It was a burden for me, because even as a child, he snored to shake the hills. But he thought he was protecting me, I suppose, even when he was not.

"Most do not know this, but I was the one who gave him the nickname, Thunderer, and not for his skills in battle." He looked towards her. "You do not snore, do you?"

"I don't think so," Faith said uncertainly.

He returned his gaze to the ceiling. "One time, when Thor and I were very young, we strayed far from the boundaries set for us, looking for a companion for Sæhrímnir, a creature kept by the king. Thor thought Sæhrímnir was lonely and needed a friend. I may have encouraged that thought. Thor was a sentimental fool, easily distressed over trivialities. He was older than I. I wanted to be like him, brave and admired.

"We set out for the forest beyond the farmland. It was a longer journey than we had anticipated. The skies began to darken and we hadn't eaten. Had we gone into the forest, we might have been lost. As it was, we hadn't time to turn back before nightfall, so we looked for a site in which to make our camp.

"Thor complained mightily of hunger. I was so tired of hearing his stomach rumble, I told him to go find food. He left me alone.

"Soon, I became aware of the bleat of goats in the field where I stood. I thought, 'Here's my chance to show Thor I can be as resourceful as he. I will capture those goats for our dinner.'

"I ran after them, but they were bigger and faster than I. I managed to capture one by the leg, but it was stronger than I, dragging me around the field until my clothes were smeared with grass and mud. The other goat butted me away repeatedly. I tried luring the goats to me by telling them of the ripe fruits in our palace gardens, fruits they could enjoy if they surrendered to me. I found that in that valley, goats could laugh.

"Thinking on it, I decided the cleverest way to capture the goats was to find their owner and demand they be turned over in the name of the king. I followed the footpaths carved in the meadow and came to a house under a stone bridge. The house was no more than slabs of rock piled against the embankment, but to my childish eyes, it was clearly a home.

"I bellowed for the owner to emerge and deliver his goats to the house of Odin. The ground shook as the largest creature I had ever seen rolled out of the rock dwelling. I had to crane my neck to look at its face. But I stood my ground. I was never afraid."

Faith smiled and murmured in a dream-state, "Are you telling the truth?"

"Entirely. I thought the creature was one of the farmers in that part of the kingdom."

She just smiled in reply.

He went on, "The creature said instead of giving me the goats in the field, he would have me for _his_ supper. I assured him that if he let me go, he would have a much finer meal in my bigger and fatter brother, who would shortly be along. He agreed.

"I was thus prepared to make my escape when Thor, the great oaf, descended from across the field, crying my name. He ran towards the creature, picking up speed as he went. Down the embankment he screamed, grabbing me and throwing me under his arm, for he was ever larger than I. But the creature captured Thor by his leg and Thor could not break free. The creature said he would eat both of us.

"So I offered the creature Sæhrímnir, the wondrous beast, the very reason we had come to these accursed fields in the first place. I told him of the animal of plentiful flesh that could be butchered, roasted, and eaten each night, yet be restored each morning for the next evening's feast.

"The ravenous being was well interested in such a boon. He saw us to the road, and set Thor and me upon it with our solemn promise to bring Sæhrímnir the next night to the dwelling of stone.

"We had gone not far along the road when Odin-Father appeared before us in a rage. Our lady mother had grown concerned at our absence and had sent for Asgard's gatekeeper, Heimdall, who had seen our exploits with the All-Seeing. Thor was even at that age belligerent and boastful, insisting he could have killed the troll and saved me, insisting he would do so still. Odin was grave and sad in his anger. He said an oath made must be kept, for that is the way of the Aesir. Disaster follows a broken oath. Thor and I must bring Sæhrímnir to the troll the next day. Oh, by the way, the creature was a troll and not a farmer, as I had thought."

"Trolls are like giants, right?"

King scoffed, "There is no comparison. Giants are complex beings who live in social groups. They wage strategic war and use technology. Though they are large, and either blue or red, they are well-formed. A troll, on the other hand, is a simple being that lives alone, fights for no reason and possesses little reason, all of that centered on eating. A troll is malformed, the color of the earth and the rocks on which it lives. It is hated by all."

Faith took this in, as King restarted his story.

"We set out the next morning with Odin, his warriors, the beast Sæhrímnir, and the stable hand who tended Sæhrímnir, Volstagg. The boy was large and boisterous, bragging of his bravery. He and Thor became fast friends, and I was forgotten on the adventure.

"When we came within eyesight of the bridge with its tumbled stone shelter beneath, Odin and his warriors set up camp, leaving me, Thor, and Volstagg to bring Sæhrímnir to its fate.

"Imagine us, three children, the equivalent of your five-to-six-year-olds -- well, Volstagg was much older -- trying to pull a ferocious beast towards its horrible end. We struggled mightily and finally reached the troll's stone abode as night fell. When we yelled for the troll and it came out, Sæhrímnir took one look at its fated master and broke free of our grasp, running into the fields above the bridge. We were three boys facing one troll, without our bargaining piece.

"Quick the demon Newton called me. Know that I have always been called thus. I had been learning magic even then, and in desperation, I turned the pile of rocks behind the troll into the shape of a large beast. 'Look,' I shouted, 'there is the creature we brought.' Trolls not being keen of eye or nose, nor particularly intelligent, the creature seized upon the beast of boulders and began to devour it.

"This was my first magical feat of this scale, and the plan worked, but it was soon eclipsed by the deeds of Thor and Volstagg that day, for they ran to the fields after Sæhrímnir, knowing Odin All-Father fed his einherjar with the beast. Even though the einherjar are dead, Sæhrímnir is part of his promise, and thus, it had to be returned.

"Thor and Volstagg found Sæhrímnir with one of the goats, Heiðrún, who put up a fight but was captured by the two boys along with Sæhrímnir. The story of that capture was the subject of feasting for an entire year, but suffice it to say they led them back to Odin's warriors.

"I was left with the troll, who, having finished the meal of stones, roared and went after me. I did not know that trolls are oath-breakers by nature. I conjured a fire in my hand, something I had been practicing. I had always been fascinated by fire. The flame was enough to hold off the troll until Odin and his warriors attacked. One troll could not withstand their numbers and wrath.

"Thor was celebrated for rescuing Sæhrímnir and finding a companion for him in Heiðrún, who provided a new source of nourishment for Odin's warriors, as the goat produced mead instead of milk. Moreover, Sæhrímnir the mighty and goat Heiðrún mated to produce Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, two enormous goats who pull Thor's chariot, they with their mother's shape and stubbornness and their father's strength and ability to be killed and eaten, yet rise to life the next day.

"As important as fame for Thor was his meeting of Volstagg. They were to become close companions and share hunting and fighting together.

"I was punished for causing the trouble and for using magic to divert the troll. Thor would say there was no honor in my methods, but with his way, there is always violence and death. With my way, all stand to gain."

Faith opined, "Well, I always say go with whatever works and sort it out later."

"You are an intelligent women, Lady Faith."

"Let's not get carried away."

He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Is that the end of the story?"

He returned his gaze towards his bed. "It is not the nature of these stories to end. When we were younger, most of the trouble we found was at my instigation, as I was easily bored and brimming with what you would call imagination. In this case, however, Thor challenged me to capture the other goat that had caused so much trouble to us as children. He thought if Heiðrún yielded mead, the other might yield ale. I was confident I could capture one ordinary goat. We set out with Thor's companions, mostly there to make jest of me and flatter Thor by comparison. Thor neglected to inform me that a new troll would be involved. Moreover, from farmers in the area, I discovered that out of spite for the original troll's humiliation through the visit of two small princes, a local sorcerer be-spelled the goat to give it the strength and disposition of a Bilgesnipe." King yawned. "But I have told you enough of these tales and I grow weary." He turned on his side and fixed sleepy green eyes on her. His fine face was the model of benign curiosity.

Faith asked, "If Thor's a prince, that means he's your brother, right?"

His face shifted immediately to bitter sadness. "So I was told my entire life."

Faith was confused, but she said. "I used to want a sister, but now I'm glad I didn't have one. She would have ended up like me, or worse."

"Being like you can't be so terrible," he said in a voice of gentle teasing.

After a pause, Faith murmured, "Sore subject, long story. Alls I know is, I've been lucky. Bein' a Slayer and a born Hellraiser, keeps me going when others might quit."

He began, "I know you had a difficult childhood," in a voice of quiet concern.

"You could say that. Left me kinda rootless."

"Did you have friends?"

"The closest I got was Buffy."

"Ah, yes. The golden Slayer."

"Well, she's blonde, sure."

"And favored."

"I suppose. No Slayer has an easy life."

"You counted her as a friend?"

"It's complicated. Before I met her, I thought we would have a lot in common, being Slayers. I thought we could hang out. We did, for a while. But she kind-of put me down the whole time. And she had friends. A mother who cared about her. She had a Watcher who was actually worth something. She had boyfriends who were actually worth something. She had people who believed in her and looked out for her." Faith sighed. "She had it all, the Superperfecta. That's what it seemed like to me. I mighta been a little jealous.

"Then there was me. I've been trying to figure it out since I was a kid, younger than you in your story. Why did everything seem so wrong? I was on my own most of the time. I was a drifter, a loner. So it was pretty obvious right away that I didn't fit in Buffy's crowd. I thought I could fit, but it just didn't work out," Faith said with finality.

"She put you in the hospital once."

"Yeah." Faith paused. "I made some mistakes." Faith let out a sigh. "Truth is, she was always right and I was wrong." Faith rolled up tighter and pulled the blankets over her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I see."

"No, you don't. Stop trying to piss me off."

"I don't wish to make you angry."

After a minute of silence, Faith said, "There was a time when she needed me. Someone told me she did, anyway. So I came to help out. Not like I was doin' nothing else, in prison.

"But she was being bossy and pushing everyone away, acting like the martyr suffering for all those who couldn't understand her burden. Like I couldn't! I tried to tell her how others saw it. She wouldn't listen. I warned her the others wanted me, of all people, to lead them. They trusted me 'cause I didn't act like I was above them. They didn't know I thought I was better than them once, 'til I found out I was worse. But, hey -- at least I knew how to enjoy life.

"Anyway, it turned out that Buffy was right about what we were doing, and I was wrong. I mean really wrong. We managed to keep it together and save the world. Usual thing. This one mighta been tougher than most.

"After that, I went my own way. There didn't seem to be much point in hanging around. I still wasn't one of them."

After another pause, Faith whispered, "She and I have almost killed each other a couple of times, and yet, I'm still probably closer to her than anybody. Weird, right?"

The room was silent, so she turned off the lamp beside her bed and fell asleep.

She awoke around four a.m., needing to use the bathroom. She felt stale and dirty after sleeping in her clothes, and her throat ached.

King was fast asleep on his bed, curled on his side to fit. His face was beautiful in the streetlight, serene and proud. He looked like the nobleman he said he was, secure in the world, knowing his place in it.

She stepped into the shower and had just finished washing her hair when she heard wild screaming. She got a towel around her and ran to help, but it was only King, crying and writhing on his bed. She went to wake him before he woke everyone in the hotel, when the desk clerk began banging on the door, shouting, "I told you to keep it to yourself."

Faith opened the door to stop him from hammering on it. "It's OK," she said. "My friend had a nightmare."

The manager tried to look around her, but she blocked his view. He sneered at her towel, then turned away, remarking as he left, "Check-out at eleven. I don't want you here another night."

"Works for me," Faith yelled after him, slamming the door.

King was awake, looking frightened and confused. He had a pillow held against him like a shield. Her anger quickly dissipated. She'd seen potential Slayers look terrified like him when faced with the kind of sadistic evil that didn't want a quick death, that wanted to mess with your head first, to cause real fear and pain.

"Are you OK?"

He made a visible effort to pull himself together. "I'm well," he managed after several seconds. "Who was that?"

"The manager, reminding us when checkout time is."

He looked up at her sheepishly, as if he'd just been beaten into the floor. "What are you wearing?"

"Just something I found," she joked.

"It looks charming on you. I assume it's meant to be wet."

She turned to model the towel. "It's the latest look."

He smiled broadly, but she saw sadness underneath it. "I probably shouldn't attempt sleep again."

"You were doing fine until that last part."

"Are you still tired?"

"No. Like I said, Slayers don't need a lot of sleep. Out slaying all night, usually."

"Would you like to get something to eat?"

"Sure. Let me get out of this hot couture and slip into my street clothes. Don't want to excite the peasants."

His smile was much stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki tells many tales in this story. Faith, not so much.


	10. Poker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flyting for fun and profit.

They got a storage locker for their few things. When the clothing stores opened, they went shopping. King asked her to find a dress for the evening.  
  
She was still flipping through the racks when he came back in a suit so sharp Faith couldn't look at him. Her body was full of ideas because her head obviously checked out.  
  
He examined the dresses she had selected to try on. He disappeared and came back with two dresses, cream-colored silk columns of pleats held in place by interwoven strips, accented with broad straps of beaded gold and bronze. They were sexy, but slinkier and longer than anything she'd ever worn. Each one cost eight thousand dollars. She would never pay that much for a dress.  
  
"This what they wear in Asgard?"  
  
He pursed his lips. "Your realm does not hold clothes like those of Asgard."  
  
"If I gotta wear a dress, I prefer short, tight and bodacious."  
  
"A man such as myself would retain a courtesan who reflected my taste."  
  
"Courtesan, that like your mouthpiece?"  
  
He smiled slightly. "Something like that. It's a specific type of companion."  
  
"Like on Dr. Who?  Firefly?"  
  
"I do not understand your references to popular culture," he remarked tightly, brushing off her comments.  
  
"Just so long as this isn't Pretty Woman. I like myself the way I am."  
  
Her heart wasn't into spending cash on a overpriced dress she'd only wear once, something that would be ruined in traveling or, more likely, fighting. He said a dress would show off her ample figure and distract the demons. She didn't feel like being on display for them.  
  
"For this event, I would demonstrate that you have value to me and that I therefore keep you in style."  
  
"You're not keeping me. You hired me as a guide. As a bonus, you get a bodyguard. That's my value. I need clothes that won't hold me back."  
  
This seemed to inspire him. He took the dresses from her and left. He eventually came back with a pantsuit of dark green silk jersey. He paired that with a burnished gold silk blouse. A wicked smile hung on his lips.  
  
"Could you perchance add model to your list of accomplishments?"  
  
She grabbed the clothes and went into the dressing room.  
  
She didn't wear a lot of green, but she had to admit that the color made her hair look like it was shot through with red flame. When she came out of the dressing room, she actually felt self-conscious, even though she reminded herself any guy would be crazy lucky to get her.  
  
He didn't seem to notice her nervousness. He turned her around, then unbuttoned the shirt to her navel. She was surprised how cold his hands were. He grinned and said, "Don't bring that undergarment tonight."  
  
"Are you going to wear your shirt unbuttoned to the waist, too?"  
  
"Perhaps after the game, if you'd like." He winked at her.  
  
That was unexpected. She raised her eyebrows. "My sexy usually involves showing lots of skin."  
  
"I find subtlety and defying expectations more intriguing."  
  
"So, you're saying this what you're attracted to?"  She was trying to sound uninterested.  
  
"I am attracted to many things," he said in a distracted manner.  
  
"Big sugar daddy, with my money," she grumbled. "Don't think I like whatever you have in mind."  
  
He looked like the devil of mischief himself. "If I could wear those clothes, I would. Unfortunately, our hosts will have other expectations of me.  I do know how they will react to you."  
  
"I know that, too. Don't see how it helps."  
  
"They will not see beyond their prejudices. This is an advantage to us."  
  
"I'm not good at playing games, King."  
  
"Best leave them to me, then."  
  
She found the suit in charcoal, which gave her night camouflage and more sophistication. It would probably show less dirt, too.  
  
She protested as he brought the ensemble to the register. "I can't spend this kind of money." She used to just take what she needed and let anyone try to stop her. Those days were long gone.  
  
He sighed, "Will you argue with me over every decision?"  
  
"When I think you're right about something, I'll stop. This doesn't seem like battle gear."  
  
"Perhaps there won't be a battle."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Demons, K. They always do thing the hard way."  
  
He pursed his lips in annoyance. "If we bring the gun, will that make you happy?"  
  
"I don't like guns. They can't hurt vampires and they don't hurt demons. They just give people a false sense of security, before the guns are turned against them."  
  
"They won't hurt me."  
  
"I'm out if guns are involved. Besides, where am I going to hide a gun on this outfit?"  
  
"Oh, I am certain the demons will confiscate it."  
  
"Why bring it if they're gonna take it away?"  
  
"It will make us look weak and obvious."  
  
"That's a good thing?"  
  
He smiled in a clever way.  
  
"Do you always think circles around every situation?"  
  
He grinned. "Always, and in multiple dimensions."  
  
"I don't make plans. I take each scene as it comes."  
  
"I've noticed."  
  
"It's kept me goin' so far."  
  
"You have natural talents, but they won't keep you alive forever. You don't even own a weapon."  
  
"How do you know? Did you go through my stuff?"  
  
"Perhaps I, ah, wanted to see your knife?" he said, like he didn't care.  
  
"Better hope you never see it."    
  
Faith spun around and started to leave, but he followed, saying in an exasperated voice, "If it helps, I admire your ability to adapt to chaotic circumstances, your courage and resilience."  
  
"Courage and resilience, huh?  Nice words from you, but I can't lie to myself. I've kept going, but I sometimes got in my own way, big time."  
  
He gave her a searching look, but only said, "I wasn't lying."  
  
"I know." He just made her feel so conflicted.  "I really need to hit something, K. You'd do."  
  
He offered, "In Asgard, we had training grounds for such moments. I did promise to demonstrate how I throw my knives."  
  
She still ached to hit something, hard, but she agreed.  
  
They took the bike to Polaris and Pollux and cruised by the place they were going to that evening. A small building stood isolated in the middle of a dusty lot.  It looked like an abandoned garage, every surface except the windows covered in graffiti. The windows were smeared with dirt.  The place was about fifty feet back from the street. The lot was surrounded by a chain link fence decorated with a lacey trim of weeds and litter.  
  
"We're gonna be the only pimped up players at this joint," Faith remarked.  
  
"On the contrary, you should be dripping in jewels."  
  
He drew a package from his pocket. It held a gold necklace with small yellow diamonds worked onto the chain and a large emerald teardrop suspended at the middle.  
  
"Is this real?"  
  
"I didn't ask. I got it at the shop where I traded dollars for my vambrace."  
  
"How much did the guy charge you for this?"  
  
He exclaimed in a cagey way, "After I reasoned with him, I found he could be surprisingly reasonable." Holding the ends of the necklace out, he asked, "May I?"  
  
She lifted her hair and showed him her back. He fastened the necklace with his icy fingers and asked her to turn. He looked unbearably pleased with himself when she did. She wanted to kick him.  Instead, she took off the necklace and asked him to hold it for her.  
  
They returned to the storage locker. In an empty lot nearby, they traded fighting techniques.  
  
Faith realized that King's strategy involved using tools and others' weaknesses against them. Faith, on the other hand, liked to whale on targets with her fists or feet, or any oversized weapon like an ax. It took her a long time to learn how to be efficient with her blows, and even after learning all that, she usually didn't bother. She had learned to put people out quickly, though, usually for their own good.  
  
She threw his knives at an old telephone post. The knives felt like natural extensions of her body, as if a thought was all she needed to get them to the target. She was good at hitting the post, but she realized she'd never have the built-in stealth that he had.  
  
Despite the exercise, King started pacing and explaining poker strategy to her. It was driving her nuts. The intense heat didn't help, either. The practice wasn't doing much to relieve her mounting frustration.  
  
She found a bar with fish and chips and a pool table. She spent the afternoon and early evening watching him knock balls into pockets. He told her how setting up the shots reminded him of traveling along the routes of a tree. At least he wasn't talking poker, over thinking every play he could possibly make.  
  
Eventually, they changed at the storage locker, walked to the bike, packed their gear, and walked to the poker game.  
  
A section of the chain link fence had been pulled back, forming a gate. The faint light reflected off the building windows revealed five figures of various sizes mulling around the graffiti-tagged door, and Frankie standing in front of the door. He was half the size of the largest demon there.  
  
At nine, Frankie opened the building doors and invited each demon by name to cross the threshold. He called out Hehaloipnat, a Thoraxian demon, covered with red pustules oozing white fluid that reeked of rotten cabbage; Cathiel, a hybrid of the people of Set and a fallen angel, who had a narrow black face, black fur, and black wings with ratty feathers; Ohorush, a sand demon whose shape shifted as he shuffled along and whose every move left a trail of sparkling glass shards; Aserop, a southern European demon who looked like a steroid-enhanced Santa on a tanning vacation; and Raar, a large, bullish demon with a grey hide like worn leather, red eyes, and burnished brown horns that spiraled a foot and a half over his head.  
  
King stepped up to be introduced. Frankie requested, an edge of hostility in his voice, "Please remove the glamour. It is common to take the demon form in these games."  
  
"This is my form," King answered. Faith narrowed her eyes. He answered the question far too quickly.  
  
Frankie introduced him as King. King took Faith's arm and began to pass through the door. He was thrown back.  
  
Frankie folded his arms. "What is your real name?"  
  
King stood tall. "I have many names, but by most, I am called Loki."  
  
Raar growled something in his demon language. King flashed a sharp look and asked him to repeat it. Frankie added, "We speak English here, so everyone can understand."  
  
Raar said in what sounded like English run through a cement mixer, "Named for the god?"  
  
"I am the god," King answered calmly, a beatific smile on his face, looking as much like a resplendent deity as he could in his human clothes. He raised the sleeves on his jacket. Both vambraces gleamed over his shirtsleeves. The murmurs among the demons stopped as they noticed them. "I am traveling in your realm temporarily, seeking diversion."  
  
Raar observed, "You are not a towering and powerful warrior like your brother, Thor."  
  
King jerked his head to the side and winced in irritation, but he turned back and forced a smile, saying, "Have you met Thor? He is no larger than I."  
  
"He looked big on television."  
  
"I would appear large, too, were I on television, wearing my armor and posing for willing admirers. As it is, I come here not to fight you or to seek your devotion." He smiled deviously. "I am here to play poker."  
  
This got a ripple of approval from the group. King began to enter the building with a regal air.  
  
Faith began to follow, but Frankie blocked her way. "Players only. No guests."  
  
King looked down at Frankie with a menacing glower. "She is my good luck."  
  
Raar barked "How does she bring you luck?"  
  
"I rub her," King said lightly, putting his palm on her lower back and moving it down to her butt. The demons laughed knowingly.  
  
"I'm good with staying outside," Faith stated, her anger rising.  
  
Frankie warned, "We do not allow charms here."  
  
"If my lady cannot be by my side, then these worthy players should divest themselves of their good luck charms, as well."  
  
The demons grumbled threatening. Frankie relented. Faith entered, muttering to King in a voice loud enough for all to hear, "Don't count on getting lucky tonight."  
  
Frankie led the players to a car lift and asked them to stand on it. It descended to a lower level under the garage, a cavernous, dark space with a bubbling pond covering half its ground. The building owners must have been sitting on a fortune in hot springs they never developed, but the sulfurous smell of the water indicated it was probably valuable to demons in other ways.  
  
A table was set for six players. A heavy candelabra hung over the table, giving the surface a wavering, pallid luminescence. Solid chairs of rough-hewn planks of wood provided sturdy seating for the large demons.  
  
The guests played the first few hands in silence, only commenting to advance the game of draw poker. King asked "his lady" to bless his hands every so often. The only thing she could think to do was bend over him and blow on his hands. She felt stupid. Not only that, she could sense the stares of the demons as her blouse fell open. She didn't know if they were trying to look at her breasts or the rock dangling around her neck. While the demons were preoccupied with ogling her, King ran his eyes over their faces with predatory glee.  
  
Despite his concentration on the players and what Faith was sure was his ability to figure out the probable cards the others held, King began to lose. Not even Faith's unwilling seductive show could derail Cathiel, who rarely spoke and whose face revealed little beyond the feral furtiveness of his eyes. King wasn't in the game to win, however. He wanted information on the Braid.  
  
He began in a relaxed way, telling them of his travels in the realm of Midgard, how he found it far advanced from his last visit in terms of technology, but the humans no more enlightened. "They spread over the surface of their earth like ants, turning up the ground in their wake, building colonies that wash away with the first storms. Their lives last as long as it takes one from Asgard to draw a breath, and that godly breath, if released here, would kill them by the thousands. I confess myself not as impressed with humans as they are with themselves." This rant got grunts of approval from the demons who weren't annoyed with his talking. King asked of the group, "Why do you stay here?"  
  
"We cannot leave," Ohorush explained. "We are tied to this realm, as you call it. Few of us are even able to travel its dimensions. I have never heard of a demon leaving the Earth."  
  
"Yet those from other realms are able to visit here. Some have left their artifacts behind."  
  
"Objects of power," Aserop confirmed. "Many originated in other realms. These objects were not always left here willingly by their original bearers." He smiled a bloated Santa smile, his lips moving wide over sharp teeth, as his belly full of jelly rolled.  
  
"I may be in the market for such objects," King remarked casually, discarding a seven of spades that would have completed a full house.  
  
"I have heard a legend that your Odin hoards these things, to keep their power from others, to use for his own ends," Raar, the apparent expert on mythology, noted.  
  
"Just so," King replied, a note of sadness in his voice. Rallying, he asked, "Do you know where I might find such curiosities?"  
  
The demons exchanged glances. Cathiel said, "You are a god, and you ask us?"  
  
"Gods are limited in their knowledge, especially of other realms."  
  
Raar said, "Doesn't Heimdall tell you about these things?"  
  
"Heimdall will only look where Odin tells him, and will tell only Odin what he has seen."  
  
"Then you should ask Odin," Ohorush spoke with finality.  
  
"Perhaps I want to.. surprise him?" King suggested.  
  
Hehaloipnat oozed in his seat as he shifted. "Let's not be coy." He turned to King. "You are looking for something specific."  
  
"Of course. The Braid of Souls."  
  
Laughter rose up among the demons.  
  
Aserop remarked, "You certainly start at the top."  
  
"I would not waste my time."  
  
Hehaloipnat stated, "That object has never been seen in this dimension."  
  
"You are certain of that?"  
  
"Fairly certain. I am a collector myself."  
  
"Are there others who share our interests to whom I might speak?"  
  
Hehaloipnat moved his slimy shoulders in a shrug.  
  
Raar, whose eyes had been fixed on Faith the whole time, spoke up. "I will make you a bargain, Sly One. If you take the bulk of tonight's winnings, I will give you the name of the foremost dealer who trades in, er, antiquities. If you fall behind any of us, you forfeit the female for the evening."  
  
King didn't even look at Faith. "Very well."  
  
"Wait a moment," Faith protested. "I'm not some chit you can write out and place in the game any time you want."  
  
The demons laughed again. At least King didn't join in. If anything, he became sharper and cooler. That didn't make Faith feel any better about him.  
  
She was so ticked off, she jumped to the upper level and went to the door to walk out. She found the way blocked at the entrance by the same invisible barrier that kept King out at first. She was thrown back at the windows, too. She kicked the walls, making enough noise that the demons in the sub-level guffawed at the sounds. Frankie stood outside the door, watching her attempts to leave with malicious satisfaction, making no offer to help.  
  
She considered her options. She probably couldn't get out. She couldn't join the game. King had all the money, so she couldn't put his ass on the line, no matter how much she wanted to do that. She was lousy at poker, anyway.  
  
There was no question that she was going to end up fighting. She didn't want to fight for King, even if he technically was her boss. She'd have to fight for herself, though.  
  
She roamed the deserted top floor of the building, looking for weapons. She found a few sticks, some old oil, and a tire iron. She wasn't MacGyver enough to start a fire without a match, so that option was out.  
  
Seizing the tire iron, she sat on the ground to preserve her energy for the fight to come. At least the night was dark, an advantage to her. She hoped she'd have a chance to go for King along with the others. She was glad she wore clothes she could fight in, and she didn't care at all if they got ruined.  
  
The sound from the level below echoed up into the garage. From the volume and number of growls, she knew King had begun to win.  
  
He then did something bizarre. He began to insult the demons, telling them they had grown weak from living with humans, that they valued too much the diversions humans used to distract themselves from their meaningless lives, the sex, the drugs, the money and toys, all things demons should use to trick humans and fulfill a demon's true purposes, not things they should indulge in for their own sakes.  
  
Faith wondered if maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't right. Maybe he _was_ insane.  
  
The night wore on and amidst the increasing level of insults and cross-accusations, the snarls of the demons became more emphatic as King won victory after victory. Finally, he announced cheerfully that he was going to take his leave, as he had taken almost all their money. To Raar, he said, "I would have the name of that dealer before I depart."  
  
The demons objected to him leaving. They demanded a chance to get their money back.  
  
King's insults then became more specific. He also said them in a lilting, jeering verse. Faith pounded the tire iron against the ground in irritation, but stopped when she realized she was not only alerting the demons to her means of defense, she was keeping time with him.  
  
Hehaloipnat spoke. "We bade you welcome among our kind, and sat you at our table. You are now our honored guest. Do not leave us penniless. Let us find our recompense. Play again this game of chance."  
  
"Hehaloipnat, foully born,  
Sent to curse the covetous,  
Blight of flesh in diseased form,  
You fall prey to their distress,  
Pay them for corruption's bliss,  
Pay to seal their human lips.  
You of Cathiel have known,  
And of Aserop have sewn."  
  
Cathiel spoke. "Be silent now, human lover, and curse no more our table. Our money you won on the sly, your lady here to fill our eyes, your words no more than enate lies, your luck a trickster's weak disguise."  
  
"Cathiel, you're strict and cruel,  
Hide in letters of the law,  
Thrust them onto human fools,  
Instruments of fortune's fall,  
But on demons turn your back,  
Pile their riches in your sack,  
Take from Ohorush his gold,  
Take Raar's horn into your folds."  
  
Ohorush spoke. "If you escape with your fey life, speak less of the divine. Your ways are not the demon ways, your banter reeks of bygone days, your strength is only in wordplay, you'd flee the room ere face a fray."  
  
"Ohorush, you holy man,  
Avatar of ancient lore  
Made in haste while in the can,  
Sold with trinkets at your store.  
Your belief is all of greed.  
Lucre puts you on your knees,  
Hehaloipnat in your bed,  
Aserop to stroke your head."  
  
Aserop spoke. "We have no wish to harm you, thief, and not over this coin. Though information we could give, if it is your choice to live, you will cease to be so glib, or your tongue we'll surely strip."  
  
"Aserop, a friend to none,  
Even though you smile for all,  
Pat all backs when deals are done,  
Wield the knife at final call.  
For their children do you lust,  
Live to break a parent's trust.  
Cathiel doth feed you lies,  
Raar on you often espies."  
  
Raar spoke. "Enough, Lie Smith! I will have the money and I will have the female kine!"  
  
"Is that what she is to you? I wondered what you had in mind for her, knowing you would have preferred me."  
  
"You are a fraud and a cheat. It was impossible for me to lose. I carry the Emblem of Eleggua."  
  
King responded, "You mean this thing?" Raar roared, but King merely laughed. "You couldn't honestly expect to hold onto this with me in the room."  
  
Faith heard a loud crash, the sound of a table pushed aside roughly. The basement erupted in yells and blows.  
  
Faith didn't much feel like helping King, so she stayed where she was. After a minute of clatter and screams, he jumped up the car lift shaft, merry as could be, covered in glass shards, cabbage juice, and feathers. "Away, my lady," he sang, taking Faith's arm. "You are saved."  
  
She wrestled her arm from his grip, but he hardly seemed to notice. He ran to the door and yelled, "A fight has broken out below!"  
  
Frankie released the spell on the door and took a look at King before springing to the hole in the floor. Faith shot out the door, King soon overtaking her. They ducked among the buildings where they left the bike.  
  
"Are you out of your mind?" Faith exploded.  
  
"Not that I am aware of." He was very pleased with himself, lugging a jacket full of loot, waiting for her to get on the bike and spirit them away.  
  
"This is where we split up. I don't want anything more to do with you."  
  
"Do you believe I would have let that beast take you?"  
  
"You didn't know you were going to win!"  
  
"But... I did."  
  
"That's not the point. You can't go using me as collateral for your schemes without at least asking for my permission."  
  
"Don't you trust me?"  
  
"Am I the crazy one? Why would I trust you?"  
  
"Because I've guarded you when you slept; I've held myself back from killing humans for your sake; I've told you the truth."  
  
"That's only because it's so obvious when you're lying."  
  
He looked at her in astonishment. "We are friends. You've said so, twice."  
  
"What? Listen, King..."  
  
He pouted. "Call me 'Loki.' If demons can do this, so can you."  
  
"Oh, and now you're comparing me to demons."  
  
"You twist everything I say."  
  
She rolled her eyes and in doing so, noticed shadows moving toward them. "We got company."  
  
Aserop and Raar charged into the small cul-de-sac in full battle rage. King dropped the jacket. His silver knives flashed from his hands. They bounced off Raar, but a knife found one of the huge bronze Santa's eyes, slowing him down as he reared in pain. He went for King again, but the god leapt onto the roof. Breaking off an antenna, King jumped back to the ground.  
  
Faith took on Raar with the tire iron still in her hand, and was satisfied to hear a crunch as she hit his face. This didn't stop him from ramming her into the wall with his horns, but he was knocked off balance and only pierced her upper arm. She was held in place, stuck into the wall, by his horn, but he was stuck, too. She worked him over with the tire iron, using her feet and knees to batter any tender areas she could find. He hit her a couple of times, painful blows, but she had the momentum and wasn't giving it up. He eventually slumped, but she didn't stop until he fell to the ground, his horn ripping from his head, leaving her impaled. She tried to work the horn free while watching King's progress with Aserop.  
  
King wielded the thinnest weapon she'd ever seen, but he handled it with style, at times using it like a whip, at times like a spear, other times spinning it around to distract his opponent or using it for leverage to launch himself feet first at the beast's legs. Aserop, despite being twice as broad as King, if not as tall, couldn't get near the dancing god. King finally sent the spear through Aserop's other eye, lodging it into his brain. Aserop's cry of pain ceased abruptly as he stilled and fell.  
  
King spun around to see if she needed any help, knives in his hands. She said, "What took you so long?" He threw his head back and laughed. She tried to cross her arms, but couldn't move the pierced arm. King rushed to her side.  
  
He pulled the horn out of the wall like it was a Post-It note. It was still embedded in her arm. She fell into his arms.  
  
"You've been injured."  
  
"It'll heal."  
  
"This needs treatment." He sat her on the ground, glanced at the bike, then decided to rifle through the pockets of their dead attackers. He came up with wallets, several amulets and vials, and sets of keys. "These must belong to a vehicle nearby," he stated. He seemed reluctant to leave her sitting by the bike, but he did, with the tire iron and antenna spear in her lap, while he went to find the cars to match the keys.  
  
He came back within minutes, grinning from ear to ear. "You are my luck!" He picked her up and carried her, the jacket full of cash and trinkets, and their weapons, all as if they weighed less than a feather.  
  
A large black bus sat outside the complex of buildings, its motor running. It looked like the kind of behemoth monstrosity a rock star would tour in, complete with silhouettes of busty women and swirling logos on its sides. The swirling logos reminded Faith of the mark on her upper right arm. That made her uneasy.  
  
He carried her up the steps and into the interior of the bus. It was gaudy, decorated in black leather, black marble shot through with gold, and golden bronze, polished surfaces. A thick carpet lined the floor, walls and ceiling at the front of the bus. A row of plush cushions lined up against one wall. A massive entertainment system dominated the other. King placed Faith on the cushions.  
  
He told her, "There's a place for the motorcycle at the back."  He left to retrieve the bike.  
  
When he returned minutes later, he went to her immediately. "Let me help with this injury."  
  
"Forget it. I saw Frankie staring at us when you carried me over here. We should go." His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I'll be alright."  
  
He placed himself in the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. The bus lurched forward as he applied the gas.  
  
"Release the parking brake," Faith suggested. She pointed to the lever and he pulled it up. With another lurch, they were leaving Las Vegas.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon name generator is your friend.  
> 


	11. Cold and Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Faith have sex (explicit).

King drove like an army was after him. He sailed through red lights and traffic signals, swerving instead of stopping. The cops had either taken the night off, or the demon who owned the bus had enough connections that he never got pulled over. Occasionally, Faith heard horns honking and tires squealing, but it was more like the memory of sound. She wondered if the bus had noise dampeners. All she could really hear was King's worried voice as he kept asking about her arm.

He didn't go far out of town. He found a turn-off and swung into it, screeching to a halt. It was still dark.

He knelt next to her and ripped back her sleeves before she knew what was happening. He examined the horn still stuck through the side of her upper arm.

"I have to pull this out," he announced, without a hint of nerves.

"You've handled wounds like this?"

"Often," he assured her. She didn't believe him.

He searched the bus and came back with soap, a flask of hot water, some towels, and what looked like pieces of a sheet torn into bandages.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"What choice do I have?" Faith answered. "Go to a hospital and explain how I got this thing in my arm? I can imagine how that would go, especially with S.H.I.E.L.D. keeping a file on me. They'd lock me up and comb the city for Satanic cults and abominated goats."

His face filled with a puzzled expression.

She added, "Besides, hospitals creep me out. Go ahead. Do your worst."

"I have nothing to give you for pain."

"I can handle pain. Arm's gone numb, anyway."

He frowned, knelt beside her, and tied off her arm. Wrapping a towel around his hand, he pulled the horn out with a quick yank. She felt nothing. She didn't even bleed, or not very much.

With intense concentration, he cleaned the wound and wrapped a bandage tightly around her arm. His hands were steady and gentle on the parts of her arm that could feel his touch. His hands were cold.

In fact, close as he was, his breath blew over her like the first snow of winter, cool and clean and full of promise. She gazed at his face. The light played off the hollows of his smooth cheeks. His lips were pink and pressed together as he worked. His eyes were downcast and fringed with long, black lashes. He'd occasionally glance up to gauge her reaction to his treatment. His eyes shone a startling, clear green.

"It appears you were lucky. The horn went straight through your arm, neither damaging muscle nor disturbing blood flow."

"Lady luck, that's me."

"Are you in pain?"

"Can't feel a thing. I'm not just saying that."

He considered this. "Raar's horns may have held a paralyzing compound."

"See? Lucky. I'm not even near-paralyzed."

"That he wasn't able to take advantage of you... it wasn't luck. You are a Slayer. You have more resistance than most mortals."

"To demon horn? Color me relieved."

He explained, "Raar liked to catch his victims off-guard. Attractive horns, boys would want to stroke them. They would be unable to defend themselves if they did."

"How do you know that?"

"The demons were terrible gossips. They attacked each other's characters with zest and honesty, as often cuts deepest. They mistook me for a human who could nary understand their language."

"That Tongue thing worked on demons?"

"I had difficulty understanding Raar at first. It may have been the distraction of his horns. They _were_ magnificent."

"They didn't look so great coming at my chest."

King clenched his teeth. "I should have eliminated his threat at the table. Instead, I let him bargain his life for the name of his dealer. I reasoned that, if he had lied, I could always find him and get the truth from him anon."

"I would have killed him the moment he suggested that bet."

"You took him down, eventually." King smiled as if remembering something. "I trust the fight satisfied your need to hit something."

His fingers on her shoulder were cold. Faith felt his touch to her core.

She had a hardcore kink for cold. It was like a sick joke, or a cosmic joke. Some kind of joke. She was attracted to the one thing she shouldn't have, the forbidden fruit -- the cold of the undead. She knew how much she wanted it. She fooled around with Angel once, when she worked for the Mayor. But she saw what giving into the urge had brought to Buffy, and that girl was pure catnip for vamps. Hell, Faith heard that even Dracula fell for her. Maybe it was the sweet, innocent angle. Whatever, Faith knew she couldn't count on vampires feeling the same attraction to her. Lusting after cold bodies was a dangerous temptation for a Slayer.

King wasn't a vampire, though. And she wanted him, bad. She had struggled with her attraction to him, but the raw chill of his breath on her neck as he bandaged her arm, the smell of him, like fresh drifts of snow, she couldn't argue with that. His cold was not like death or empty promises, not like Angel's had been so long ago. The frost of cold in King was alive.

She gave him a speculative look. "Speaking of horns, I need something else, K."

He was still smiling with the memory of battle. He slapped her lightly on her good shoulder, as if she was a comrade. "Name it: it is yours. But only if you call me 'Loki.'"

"Loki."

He gazed at her with good-natured expectation.

"Battle gets me worked up. Really, I've been wound up for days, gettin' antsy. Gotta admit, part of it's bein' around you. I like the way you look and the way you move. I want to see what you've got."

He seemed bowled over by this. Of course, he understood what she meant. A million emotions flashed over his face. "You want sex, with me?"

"You're not usually this slow." 

He was momentarily at a loss for words. Faith wondered if she had made a mistake. "Unless, that is, you don't want to, I mean, with me. It's cool."

"No, no," he hastened to reply. "I want to. It's just that I've never, with a... with a mortal woman..."

"Oh, I get it. Maybe I'm different from the women on Asgard."

"I am sure you are." He laughed weakly.

"Why don't I steer you around the curves, and we can figure it out together? If you want."

"I would like that."

His face was filled with excitement, but his hands didn't move. It was like he didn't know what to do next.

She reached up with her good arm and put her fingers on the back of his neck. That made him yearn towards her. She gently pulled his face down to hers. She brushed her lips against his. 

She didn't have any hang-ups about kissing. Kisses brought her right there, out of her head and into the moment. But he pulled back and looked at her with a reserved, cautious stare and pinched lips. His shoulders were tense, almost defensive, like he was ready to be rejected. He had a haughty air, like he was pretending nothing mattered to him. Maybe it was because he was so cold to the touch and she was warm. She knew she was weird for wanting the cold. Or maybe he didn't like to kiss.

"Was that OK?" she asked. "Cause I liked it."

His frozen face broke into a wide smile, as he said, "As did I."

She pulled him back and took his mouth again, moving against his lips, urging them to part for her. He soon overtook her efforts, plunging his tongue into her mouth. The iciness shot through her body like a shock, leaving her tingling. He tasted so clean, so starkly real, so sharply-defined compared to any other person she'd been with.

They kissed until they were breathless. She felt like she'd run though a winter storm and collapsed on a snow bank, just so damned thrilled to be alive.

And now that she had his permission, she ran her hands over his body, probably too quickly. She found he was as strong and firm as she had imagined. He was slower to touch her, however. His eyes sang of exhilaration, but his hands were hesitant.

Normally, Faith jumped any guy she had sex with, banged their brains out, then left, usually dissatisfied by their lack of endurance or inability to match her strength or fear of an aggressive woman. She didn't fool around with foreplay. She was always good to go out of the gate. Men had one erogenous zone and they seemed to think women did, too, if they thought about what a woman wanted at all. She got her satisfaction quick, and got out.

With King, however, she knew she had to take her time. He was nervous as a feral cat being offered food by a stranger, liable to bolt at the slightest quick gesture. 

She took his hand and put it on the side of her breast. His body surged against hers, then pulled back, as if he had gone too far. Despite being so thin, he weighed half a ton. She ignored that, smiled, and placed his thumb against her nipple. She moved his thumb back and forth, arching into the chill of it. He watched in tense fascination.

She was still wearing the expensive suit, which she had buttoned up at the garage. She whispered, "I need you to help me get these clothes off."

He switched his attention to the buttons on the blouse. She didn't care how much it cost, she wanted to rip it off to get his hands on her. She didn't want to rush him, though. He seemed to enjoy carefully removing her jacket and blouse, the unevenness of his breathing increasing as he revealed more of her. Finally, he lifted her up from the pillows and pulled the jacket and blouse off.

When he set her back, his eyes feasted on her body, but his cautious expression seemed to be asking permission to touch her again. She took his hands and put them on her. She writhed under his cold palms and fingers as he explored her upper body with soft caresses.

"Take off my pants," she asked.

He moved down to her feet and slipped off her shoes. He cradled a foot in his hands. She placed her other foot against his crotch. She felt his hard response as he gasped in surprise. As far as she could tell, he wasn't that different from a human.

His hands trembled as he unfastened the clasp of her pants and pulled down the zipper. He removed the pants in one quick movement. He took more time with her panties, sliding them down her legs with the flat of his palms smooth against her skin. Then he sat there, looking at her but not moving, waiting for her to tell him what to do next.

She knew she had a rocking body. One of the perks of being a Slayer was that she hadn't aged at a normal rate, or maybe at all. She still looked like the teenager she'd been when she was chosen. She had been sexually active more than half her life, however, even if she looked like she should have been untouched and sucking down milkshakes in a diner. She was fortunate that she still looked like a babe. She wasn't shy about showing off her body to him.

His face showed tension and apprehension, mixed with curiosity and excitement. She felt like saying to him that it was all right to touch her. Instead, she told him, "You should take off your clothes, too." 

He took direction well. He stood and stripped off slowly, watching her reaction as he removed multiple layers of jacket, vest, shirt, and undershirt.

He didn't have any reason to worry. He was lean, with wiry muscles, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He was pale as white marble and nearly hairless, probably appropriate for a statuesque alien. When he had fully removed the top clothes, she exclaimed, "God, you're beautiful."

He blushed slightly and said in a modest tone, "It is required of those in Asgard that they be pleasing in form."

When he removed his pants, she saw that his legs were as muscular and lean as the rest of him. She was pleased to see it would have taken more than a fig leaf to cover his cock, when he finally revealed it. It stood proudly out from his body, long, thick and dusky. It was the one part of his body that didn't look cold.

"Come here, next to me."

He lay down a little to the side of her, so she had to maneuver to close the space between them, not too easy with her bandaged arm. She put her hand on his hip. He was cool and smooth, again reminding her of a statue. The interior of the bus was hot. He felt good in contrast.

She put her hand on the spot at the back of his neck where he seemed to crave being touched, just behind and below his ear. She moved her fingers lightly along his neck. After a moment, he came closer to her.

She kissed a meandering trail down his neck and chest. She put her mouth over his nipple and brushed her tongue over it. He hissed in as his cock bobbed. She moved her palm down the side of his body. He reached out to touch her with a shaking hand. "Nah," she said in a husky voice, "I got this."

She licked and nipped her way to his stomach. Like her, his body was one huge erogenous zone. She blew softly until she found a place that made him squirm, on his stomach next to his hipbone. She sucked gently and moved further down as his control fell apart. He made tiny, mewling sounds, bucking at the touch of her warm tongue.

She reached down to cup his balls. She could hardly fit one into her hand. He moaned as she circled it with her palm. He began to tremble violently. He was so tense, she thought he was going to crack.

"I'm gonna take the edge off," she informed him. She took his cock in her hand and began to move her palm up and down, watching his face transform from surprise to resistance, to conflict, pleasure, greed, and victory, to abandon. His expressions were mesmerizing.

When his face finally shifted to an agonized look, pure need mixed with distress, she replaced her hand with her mouth. He made a muffled cry as she closed around him and glided him down her throat, sucking on the way up, moving her tongue over the ridge along the bottom side and over his tip. Her hair brushed along his thighs. Her hand stroked behind his balls. His normally ready tongue could only make half-strangled noises. She could feel him strain, like a string about to break.

She hummed as she moved her finger back towards his ass. He cried out, "Faith," as he fell into explosive spasms, filling her mouth with a chilled sweetness not at all human except for its form. She swallowed and knew she wanted more.

He lay there, quaking and gulping in air. Eventually, he stilled.

She came up to lie next to him, smiling in triumph. To her surprise, tears filled his eyes.

"Did that hurt?"

"Not at all," he laughed. Then, his mischievous grin reappeared and his green eyes danced. "It is now your turn."

He was an excellent student, adding the brush of his body to the movements she showed him, delaying the caress of his fingers longer than she had, sucking and biting a little harder. It was almost like he had been born with a female body. He seemed to know how to touch her, what would hurt, what would force her to turn to him for more. She had already been wet and pulsing when she went down on him, but now she was aching.

He stopped his cold kisses just underneath her navel. "Tell me what to do," he commanded. Faith couldn't remember the last time she'd been so turned on.

"Your fingers," she managed to stammer. "Slide them between my legs."

She moaned as he did that, exploring her sensitive flesh with his icy fingers. She jumped as he touched her clit and growled in disappointment as his finger moved away. Waiting a little too long, he finally dedicated a finger to massaging the spot while the fingers of his other hand found their way inside her and began pumping. The overwhelming combination of movements started to push her over the edge. And then he stopped.

She looked down to see him observing her body in fascination. He glanced up at her and grinned evilly.

"Bastard," she muttered. He smiled as if she'd found him out. She let out a stream of expletives, and heard him chuckle in response.

Then his cool tongue began to sweep between her folds, lingering lovingly at the top. She had the pillows in a death grip, trying not to turn them into pulp. To her mortification, she had started to make mewling sounds herself. She was so close, hanging on a knife's edge. He sucked gently at her clit, and she seized and spilled over into gasping spasms and cries of, "Oh, god," wetting the pillows as she came.

He was smug and laughing when he fell beside her. He was also fully aroused.

"Think you're big stuff, huh?"

He raised his eyebrows as if saying, "Of course."

"I'll show you how it's done," she said, straddling him as best she could with a bandaged arm. She took him inside her with one push down.

His eyes widened as she enveloped him, but it was less than a second before he closed those eyes and with an expression of pure bliss, tilted his head back, showing her his sharp chin and long, pale neck. She was tempted, but she was also on a mission.

Her stiff jaw should have prepared her for his size, but it was a shock to have him inside her, massive and frigid. She cried out, but not one to admit defeat, she began to move.

His earlier wariness was a thing of the past, almost as if it not been real. Her competitive assault soon turned to all-out combat as he fought for dominance, flipping her on her back and entering her deeply and relentlessly. His weight could have been a problem, but they must have been in a good position. She didn't want him to hold anything back.

And he was like a battering ram. She liked it. She wasn't going to let him set the pace, however. To throw him off his game, she pulled him down into a kiss.

The competition stopped then, replaced by overwhelming hunger and passion, along with what Faith felt was a deeper connection. They slowed and explored each other, using their hands and mouths, but also their minds and maybe even their hearts, so unused to being close to anyone else. They stayed locked together, and moved jointly to a rhythm only they could create. Faith felt as if they had removed themselves from time entirely, as if they were the only beings in the world, cast adrift on rolling seas, existing only for each other. She felt as if everything that had been missing in her life had finally found her and filled her emptiness with its presence. She pushed out the doubts and fears always at the edge of her mind, and concentrated on the happiness she was feeling. She never wanted that feeling to end.

Eventually, however, far longer than she had expected, his rocking motion became frantic and erratic. He gazed at her with tears in his eyes, then kissed her. His hand reached between them and pressed her swollen clit. She shuddered as she came and he drove deep inside her, crying out as he climaxed.

They slowly unfolded themselves and, while she was grinning like a dope at him, his face filled with concern. "Your arm," he said, his brows knit together.

"Never better," she assured him. He relaxed a little, but still examined the bandages.

Then he helped her up and led her to the huge bed in the back of the bus with a surprisingly large bathroom behind it. She sat on the bed and watched as, completely naked, he explored the small kitchen area. He turned to show her a box of instant hot chocolate.

"Would this please you?"

She gave him a wolfish once-over. "You or the chocolate?"

He looked arrogant and bashful and roguish, all at the same time. "You can have both."

"In that case, yes."

He smiled with his usual confidence and turned again to heat some water in an electric kettle. When the chocolate was mixed, he came back to the bed with two cups, telling her she probably wouldn't like the rest of the food the demon kept, and could he buy her breakfast when she was ready?

"I'd like that, Loki."

His face lit up with a brilliant smile, like the sun coming up in songs, without guile. He seemed for the first time to be genuinely happy. She marveled at that.

Sex usually made things worse, in her experience, or at least, more awkward. That's why she always took off afterwards. But she didn't want to with him. Maybe he felt the same.

He placed the chocolate on the nightstand and gave her a look full of such frank acceptance and desire, she just couldn't help it, she took him in her arms and kissed him.

The chocolate stood next to the bed, getting cold, as they submerged themselves in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the first time for me, at least.


	12. Discourse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Faith take a detour.

They found a parking lot in a mall and ate breakfast. They then headed back to the bus with some cleaning supplies. They removed the insects and raw body parts from the refrigerator, and the teeth and hair from the cupboards, and scrubbed the bus thoroughly. They bought a few groceries and a road atlas, and explored routes to Chicago, where a demon antiquities dealer kept a shop. They drove up the road to an abandoned air field, where they broke the lock on a fence and parked inside an empty hanger. They stayed in bed for three days and nights, and never slept.

The whole time, Loki was buzzing with ideas. He never stayed still. Even when he explored Faith's body, she could see his mind jumping ahead, planning the next move, leaping over obstacles in his quest to learn her reactions and satisfy her in new ways. She was pretty aggressive when it came to sex. He didn't seem to mind. He even seemed to welcome it. He could hold his own with her, though.

"Are you happy, Faith?" he asked, freeing her from restraints she found on the bus. She tried to put restraints on him only to find that he reacted badly to being tied up. It was like he was having the nightmare in the hotel all over again. He broke through the restraints in seconds. It reminded her that even with someone as enthusiastic as Loki, she had to get consent.

He forgave her impudence by suggesting he tie her up and punish her. She readily agreed.

"I'm happy now," she answered, rubbing her arms to bring the circulation back. "But I don't know. This is an unusual thing for me."

"You seem well-practiced," he joked.

"Not sex."

He looked perplexed. "What, then?"

She scrunched her face in thought. "Sleeping with a guy in the same place for longer than, like, a day or two. Even when I was with someone, I didn't live with him. But generally, I blew relationships off. Leave 'em smiling, but always leave."

His expression became neutral. "Will you do this with me?"

"Not planning on it, but the way things are, it's probably inevitable."

"Things such as your being a mortal and I a god."

"Things like you being a man." She examined the mark on her thigh. It was already healing.

Faith's voice became serious. "You know, some people get afraid of others leaving them, so they do it first. It's screwed up, but it happens." She said with more bravery, "It's what I've always done, even before there's something to leave."

"We have been together only four of your nights, a period so negligible it would not be measured in Asgard."

"It's a record for me." She decided to clarify. "I had a boyfriend a few years back. His mother became a Slayer before he was born, the only Slayer known to get pregnant. He was four when she was killed. Put yourself in his place: having a mother one day, then she starts leaving you at night, then she doesn't return. Things got weird between us because of that. Both of us on the defensive, both of us taking off. He got in too many places where he could have been hurt. He worried too much. I couldn't deal. So I left. He's the closest to a normal relationship I ever had."

"I will not get in your way," he murmured. "I would stay with you until my pursuit is completed. I would not willingly part from you." He ran his cool fingers through her hair. They felt good against her scalp.

"You're different," Faith mused. "Not like a human guy."

"You insult me by making the comparison," he huffed.

"It's not an insult. I mean, just talking physically, you get the job done. You got stamina. I can push it with you and not stress. I used to think I was cursed, like that girl Rogue, the mutant, not able to touch others without hurting them, destined to be alone. Maybe that's why Buffy always got with the immortals and super-humans. Not as sweet and dumb as she looked. No, that was me."

"You're not sweet," he teased.

"Like you would know." She glanced at him suspiciously. "Are you saying I'm dumb?"

"I would not dare." He was looking at her with a bemused expression.

"That's right." He seemed to enjoy hearing her talk, so she went on. "You're not like humans in personality, either. You move through the world like a king who owns it all and still looks down on it, like everything you see is a big disappointment. That attitude is annoying as hell, but it's also pretty hot."

He smiled slyly.

"At the same time, you're incredibly unpredictable, but it's not like you're bad or crazy. It's just your nature. That's why I don't think you're always in control, though you pretend you are. But I get that. I've been fronting all my life, acting like I got it together when I really don't have a clue. It's Survival 101 when you're on your own."

He had stopped stroking her hair, and was staring at a spot on the top of her head. Blinking his eyes, he said coolly, "Is this what you humans call psychoanalysis?"

"What? No!" She started to feel queasy. "I was just shooting my mouth off."

He replied in a clipped tone. "I'm glad you don't find me insane, at least."

He got up and started dressing. "You humans are quite free with your perceptions." He slicked his hair back in the mirror, his face giving away nothing. "I should be used to this sort of utterance. Those of Asgard are ever eager to share their counsel regarding their judgment of others." He went and sat at the top of the steps leading out of the bus, his hands between his knees, his eyes staring forward, deep in thought.

Faith felt incredibly awkward. Her stomach was turning flip-flops. She was sure she'd screwed things up. She stepped into the small shower and when the water came on, she started to cry. It only took a few seconds for her to man up, though. So she was on her own again. She had to get it together.

She came out of the shower with a red and puffy face. He was standing outside the door.

She stuck her chin out and tried to pretend it was no big thing. "You got the map and the bus. Guess I'll pack up now," she said. She struggled not to break into fresh tears. Hangin' tough, like always. She even tried to smile up at him with indifference.

A brief, frantic expression crossed his face as she made the announcement, but he pulled himself together, and said in a haughty tone, "You were hired to assist me in the quest for the Braid. That task is not complete."

She made a small frown.

He backed off his arrogant attitude in favor of calm aloofness. "I know who I am, Lady Faith. Your words could not move me." His cool fingers lifted her chin. His face was all sincerity. "I enjoy our time together. I would have you stay. I am prepared to be magnanimous."

She broke into a smile but tears still threatened. She tried to hide them by putting her face against his chest. Suppressing a gasp, she said, "Whatever a mack nanny is, I'll hold you to it."

His arms circled her in a tight embrace, and he stated, "Then it is settled. You need not leave."

After a while, he announced, "We should leave this bus, however. It carries stark memories of terrors and sorrows."

The route he mapped to Chicago was complicated, with circle-backs and long detours. It went by many camping sites, where they stayed in tents or slept outdoors, preferring that to the bus. She wondered if he was trying to avoid cities and demons, or if he wanted to prolong their trip as much as possible. She found she didn't mind. She didn't know why he was looking for the Braid thing, but she was glad he'd forgotten about it. Maybe getting it was just a whim, after all.

Her arm had healed. It was a relief when she took over the driving. Loki behind the wheel either set his mind on the destination and full-out went for it, ignoring all obstacles, or got distracted by any odd sight along the road, stopping to investigate. He didn't seem to have a middle setting of getting where you want to go at a sane pace.

He didn't cling to being the driver. He preferred to be chauffeured. The bus held a small library of books on demon lore, magic, and mythology. Loki kept his head in a book most of the time, or he played with a laptop he found, poring over its contents.

Raar also kept a rack of the usual medieval weapons at the back of a cabinet: bows, long knives, axes, and spears. Faith practiced with those in campgrounds when there weren't people around.

They finally left the major roads entirely. Faith realized they were going into the mountains.

"Where we headed?"

"There is a range I would see again. I visited it when I was a child, with Thor. It was one of the last times I visited Midgard, before our studies started in earnest, before our adventures were besieged by parasitic bootlicks."

"We won't find those here, will we?"

"Pray we do not."

They stopped for supplies at a large town. They bought what looked like suitable camping gear, equipment along with clothes. He told her they wouldn't need the equipment, but she wanted to be able to heat water, at least.

She had never had a real vacation, so she was excited to be in the mountains. They stopped by the side of the road overlooking a valley. The clouds soared above her, filled with light. A warm wind smelling of pine and earth blew into her face. Except for the wind and the calls of birds, the air was silent. She wondered how she'd lived so long without having visited such a place.

They ended up in a northern wilderness of tall ridges and steep valleys, broad meadows, dense forests, and clear lakes. Loki convinced her to abandon the bus and enter the woods. She was relieved to be free of the vehicle that, for all its plush fittings, felt like a prison.

They left the bus at a dusty ranch owned by a cowboy whose eyes lit up at the money Loki offered him. The man had a space where the bus could be kept out of sight. He didn't have much more than that.

Shouldering the backpack and camping supplies, Faith asked, "You sure we can trust this guy?"

"He cannot move or enter Raar's vehicle, though he and a league of his fellows would try for a lifetime. He has been paid well to do nothing at all, which I suspect is his greatest talent."

Loki lifted his pack like it was a bag of marshmallows. He also carried most of Raar's weapons.

They headed off along a narrow trail. Faith was pretty sure they needed permits, but he disregarded her concerns. He felt he could evade any marshals or others who might attempt to investigate their presence. Besides, he had no identification. That's what really sealed it for Faith. As much as she didn't want to end up in jail for just being someplace, she wanted even less to end up in jail for being with him.

Faith had to admit, it rocked to be a Slayer. The trekking wasn't difficult and the pack was easy to carry. Her lungs filled with clean mountain air. She was surprised it was as hot as it was, but trees along the path gave them shade.

They set up camp under the stars that night. Loki showed her how to find the best sticks and build and start a fire. Over a small meal of canned beans, bread and beer, he told her, "Thor and I came to these forests on the last visit we made to this world together. My traveling alone with Thor was a rare occurrence by then. We journeyed here because the old forests in the other half of Midgard had been decimated by mortals.

"He said he wanted to hunt. To my annoyance, he acted as though I had forgotten the skills of a hunter and his role was to instruct me. Our interests had diverged, it is true, but once I learn a thing, I never discard that knowledge.

"Thor put on a great show of slaughtering a large number of deer, a show to which I made unimpressed, reminding him that we two could neither eat nor carry the excess he had killed. But his objective was to kill as many as possible, and nothing more. In this, he has always been attuned to the mortals of this realm.

"I sought a more elusive creature, which some in Midgard have called a king. I hunted the lion of the mountain, one which blended with the rocks, which hid among the bushes, which sprang from the trees, one which watched and waited for its opportunity. I did not want to kill this beast. I wanted to learn its ways. And so I did."

He paused to stir the small fire he made. The flickering flames revealed a face set in grim stubbornness. His eyes, as he stared into the fire, reflected the red flames, seeming malevolent and angry.

"In lion shape, I sprang upon Thor and had the better of him, for it was unthinkable to Thor that he could be hunted." His lips formed a bitter smile. "I spared him, of course, though were he telling the story, he would say that he spared me." Loki hurled a stick at the fire, where it settled with a pop. "He does not respect the power and cunning of lions to this day. He says they are stealthy and dishonorable... as if such a creature has a choice in how it behaves."

She didn't know what to make of his story. He obviously didn't turn himself into a lion, but he wasn't lying, either. Maybe he was using one of those smilies, like a poet puffing up his language. He already sounded like a PBS special most of the time.

Other than that, Faith mostly got "mountain lion" out of the story. She moved as close to Loki as she could, and stayed there until the sun came up.

The next night brought them next to a swiftly running river. Loki wanted to hike higher still, but she wondered if it would be hard to find water. They explored the river the next day, well off the trail. They found a site elevated from the riverbank, in the shade of a circle of tall pines, the ground covered in needles and no other growth. They set up camp in the cool circle of shade.

The elevation, natural noise buffers, and broadness of the river in that spot made the camp hushed and serene. All Faith heard was the occasional bird call or animal rustle.

The quiet freaked her out. She'd been in cities almost all her life. The desert was one of the few exceptions, and even then, there were people and cars, civilization. Even when she traveled, she was around people who couldn't stop talking. In the dark of the forest night, as thick as any she'd ever known, especially under the trees, every leaf that fell, every twig that broke, had her jumping out of her skin.

Loki noticed her discomfort, probably because she wasn't interested in sex after sunset. The last thing she wanted was for her senses to be occupied when some bear or wolf attacked the camp.

He began to lead her out of the forest enclosure to a rock near the river, where she could hear the water and watch the sky painted with stars and light. He would tell her how much the spot reminded him of Asgard, except the waters were fiercer in his city, and the stars were closer. The trees surrounding them, lit by the moon, reminded him of the golden pillars of his city. He told her there was majesty in every step in Asgard.

He usually fell silent after he talked of his city. She thought maybe he was homesick. To get his mind off Asgard, she told him about Slaying, or how she grew up as a trouble-making tear-away. Those stories never failed to pull his attention away from his memories. He liked hearing stories as much as she did. She got the idea that it was probably his favorite part of growing up, having the attention of his parents as they told him their legends and taught him about his kingdom, its history, and his duties.

If he was melancholy describing the city of Asgard, when he talked about its people, a different kind of sadness filled him, almost a hopelessness, followed by a rising rage, as if he could not accept being away from them. She didn't know what to say about that. She realized he and his family must have had a falling-out. She knew she didn't have the whole story. Because his attitude to other people was generally so negative, she figured he must have chosen to separate himself. She didn't want to confront him about it, though. She was happy enough with things the way they were.

After a while, she got used to being in the wilderness. She was worried it wouldn't be sanitary, but for all the plants and dirt, it was cleaner than the city's grease and soot. She was afraid of big animals she didn't want to kill, but she came to learn that they were more afraid of her and it was really things like ants and flies that made life miserable. She was spooked by the quiet, but she gradually came to hear and identify the sounds in it. She got into the rhythm of living outdoors and the enormity of her concerns narrowed to essential things like getting food. It was great.

For the first time, she went hunting for game instead of vampires. She fished and picked berries. They roamed trails made not by humans but by wildlife. They climbed daunting stands of boulders, sat in meadows of gently swaying grass and flowers, swam in ponds of melted snow full of miniature frogs and tiny snakes. They met few humans and no demons. Under the draping branches, in the absence of social noise, they lived for their experience and for each other.

Her appreciation for him grew, as did her desire. Watching his sinuous passage along a trail, she wanted him, even if it meant having him against a tree. Watching him hold a spear tense in the air as he stalked a cautious deer, watching him start a fire with his hands, watching him dress the deer and place it over the fire he built, watching him lick the grease off his lips and fingers -- all his movements made her hungry for his touch. He obviously felt the same way about her. His concentration could be broken and his passion ignited with only a glance in her direction.

He knew his way around the forests and taught her all he knew. He showed her how to keep track of location by using natural landmarks, how to start a fire by rubbing sticks together, how to build a shelter from branches, how to forage for food, how to hunt, kill, dress, cook, and store a deer -- all basic Girl Scout stuff, Faith figured, something she never had a chance to learn. Sure, she could start a fire in a trashcan, build a shelter from cardboard boxes, and shoplift like a store detective. As useful as those skills had been, they were pointless in the forest.

She was soon bringing small game down with small knives or large game down with Raar's bows. She prepared the game and served it to him. He said he was proud of her. When she got used to being complimented, when she realized it wasn't a joke, it made her feel good about herself.

In the day, they explored or hunted, and had lots of sex, usually in the warm open air. Loki was insatiable, and Faith was no slouch, either. She was making up for a long dry spell.

At night, if the moon was bright, they walked in the forest. Otherwise, they talked or held each other. They rarely slept. Wrapped in each other's arms and gazing at the stars, they would tell tales from their lives. He focused on his early days, when he learned to live in the wilds as they were doing then and when he learned to fight and behave like a ruler. Tales of his later youth involved study and feats of diplomacy. He told her he always conducted himself as a future king. He traveled far from his home on his own. She got the impression that nobody in Asgard cared if he came or went.

His travel didn't usually include Midgard. "We came here often in our youth, but there was nothing to learn. Humans are weak and powerless. I see now that your people have made strides in intellectual accomplishment I would not have thought possible, but they are far behind other realms."

Faith said sarcastically, "Don't mind me sitting here, being inferior."

He threw his eyes up. "I do not speak of you."

"Hard to tell. I'm human. Nothing good about that."

"That's not true." He reluctantly stated, "Mortals have always had a facility with words. Asgard had to steal poetry to brighten the long evenings of drunken revelry." His expression tightened." Theft is not unusual where Asgard lacks."

Faith thought of something else to go on the Earth plus side. "We have wicked hunting."

He scoffed, "Your game is small and might as well be tame. It is not nearly as challenging as the game in Asgard and other realms."

She raised her eyebrows. "You don't know how to stop, do you?"

"You brought up the subject." He was silent for a only a few seconds. "Unless your meaning was of another game. Odin used to make sport, and others did on his behalf, by setting your armies against each other, luring them into battle with promises of livestock, women, and glory. Odin has never cared for your kind. It was only when other realms threatened his hegemony over Midgard..."

"His what?"

"His stranglehold on the amusements of this realm -- when that was threatened, he made to smite those who threatened his monopoly, especially Jotunheim."

"Is that in Germany?"

He was silent for a minute. "I sometimes forget how little humans remember of their own history."

She shrunk back a little. "Just asking. I skipped a few classes. There's things I don't know. I'm not stupid."

He turned to her with a serious face. He said, "I have known gods who lack the patience to ponder even the smallest questions. You are brilliant compared to them. I would never call you stupid. You are the most thoughtful woman I have ever met." She wondered how many women he knew.

Again, she had to get used to the positive things he said about her. She couldn't help but wonder if he was telling the truth. It never sounded like he wasn't. His words sounded so natural and easy, as if he really saw good things in her. Eventually, she relaxed and believed in them herself. 

She warmed up under his observation, enough to step back into the conversation and take a chance. "Is that why you tried to take over Midgard, because of Odin?"

He sounded surprised. "You believe that I want to rule Midgard?"

"I don't know. I'm asking, I guess."

"I have no interest in Midgard, apart from finding the Braid." He said this like he was swearing on a Bible.

"OK. I believe you."

"As for Odin, he tired of this realm long before I did, and he has no more taste for war. Now, he keeps to his dark passions and barely revealed schemes. He shares his secrets with no-one, not even his son."

"Aren't you his son?"

"I am not one with whom he shares secrets."

He had that closed-off look again. His eyes were downcast and his face was spiteful. She dropped the subject. If he wanted to talk about his problems with his family, she was there to listen. He obviously didn't want to discuss them, though.

In most of his tales, he was clever and creative as much as strong and brave. He was always working for the good, but he admitted he was never self-sacrificing or even particularly honorable. Faith got the sense he was fashioning a story for his own sake as much as for hers, and not telling the whole truth. But she saw in him the traits he claimed, so she believed him. She couldn't judge him. As a Slayer, she existed in a morally murky place all the time, even if someone like Buffy couldn't accept that.

She sometimes wondered if Loki was honest with her about the big things, like them being together or why he was on Earth. She decided she had to trust her gut. He had nothing to lie about in the forest. If he did lie, it was just because he liked to make his stories more dramatic, or maybe because he was insecure or just couldn't help it. She remembered that he was manipulative in Vegas, but she called him on it.

Maybe he was like her, someone who didn't know how to be loved or even accepted. She was the Enterprise of doomed relationships: throw up the shields, run tests and challenges, and sabotage the enemy. Then she met Robin, who was one step ahead of her games and stopped nearly every one. With Robin, she learned she didn't have to make someone hate her because she feared they would end up hating her anyway, or find her disappointing or a burden, all the things she'd been told as a kid. All she had to do was love herself, or at least find things she truly liked about herself, and let herself love someone else, without demanding an accounting.

Loki tested. He popped up out of the blue with, "You say you believe me. Would you say this if I told you I was responsible for the trouble in England as well as New York?"

She thought about it. "I'd say you're lying and trying to make me mad at you. I don't know why."

He looked surprised, and wary. "What if it were true?"

"Loki, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have told me if it were true. You wouldn't even be here if it were true. They would have found some way to lock you up or kill you, I'm sure."

"I'm a god, not some petty tyrant seeking temporary gratification."

"You still had to fight those demons. You might have super strength, but you don't have other super-powers."

His eyes flashed with resentment as he ground his teeth together. She put her hand on his arm, and he calmed down.

"Don't you trust me, Loki?"

"How do you mean?"

"Trust me to like you for who you are?"

"Do you trust me?"

She sighed. "Yes. And this is me talking. I couldn't understand trust for a long time, because of how I grew up. And this is me after you've made some really boneheaded moves in Vegas. You made me wonder how you see me. Am I just a thing you think you can use? 'Cause I don't like that, especially if I don't know about it in advance so I can say 'no.'"

His eyes were wide and pale in the moonlight. She rubbed his arm and continued.

"You called me a friend. You've been pretty decent to me, overall. And I like you. I can't help that. I can't live my life in fear. I'd rather just trust you."

"Even if I am not the person you think I am?"

"Tell me, who do I think you are?"

His eyes were full of confusion. "I confess I do not know. I would guess you see me as a capable hunter and, I trust, a capable lover."

"That's just surface. Tell me who you really are."

He answered simply, "I am Loki, a prince of Asgard, once its ruler."

Her heart broke a little that he gave her his job and his name. Did he know who Loki was?

"Most people never really know themselves," she said cautiously, "but I had the chance to see how others see me. I switched bodies with Buffy and stepped into her life. Magic thing. I couldn't have done it otherwise. I was a fugitive at the time, so it was convenient. I thought it would be a lark: pretend to be Miss Perfect, mess with people's heads. But it messed with mine.

"I got to know what it was like to have real friends, who accept you even if you're on the wrong track. I got to know what it's like to have a mom who cares about you and wants to protect you and tells you the truth. I got to know how they saw me, as a pathetic loser and not the bangin' chick I thought I was. And when I saw all that, and understood it, like for the first time, it hit me hard. I saw that I only hurt people. I saw that I made people hate me. I saw that I burned all my bridges. So, naturally, I made things worse."

She laughed, but it came out in a half-swallowed sputter. She didn't talk about this kind of stuff. She thought he needed to hear it, though.

"When I realized how alone I was, and how screwed up, I kinda wanted to end it all."

She found herself wishing he would put his arm around her. His body only stiffened beside her. She knew that hanging off that ledge would probably scare most people, which is why she didn't talk about it. Plus, she was still ashamed in some ways, of not being able to handle it, of handling it so bad.

"Anyway, well, I ended up in prison. It gave me time to think about who I was and who I wanted to be. But I had to see myself through someone else's eyes to really get my head clear. Most people don't have that chance."

After a tense silence, he asked, "How do you see me?"

Faith replied, "That wasn't really where I was going with this, but... as a person, you're an amazing guy. There's almost nothing I don't like about you."

He smiled thinly, "That's very specific."

"What do you want, a list? I mean, you know you're smart. You're probably smarter than anyone I've ever met. You're fearless. You're imaginative. You're fun."

"I entertain you."

"It's more than that. Chappelle is all those things and he cracks me up, but you don't seem me dating him. Although, if he was available..."

His lips pursed. "Who is Chappelle?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you've been straight with me, not putting me down, not trying to put one over on me, much. I like the way I am with you. I like how we are together."

"You mean the sex?"

"Not gonna lie, sex with you is beyond fantastic. But if you had nothing to say, if I couldn't talk to you and feel I was being heard, if I didn't look forward to learning new things and seeing what happens with you, I wouldn't be sitting here now."

After a few seconds, he said with forced casualness, "And what things give you pause about me?"

"You really want to know?"

He looked at his hands, held tight in his lap, and said, "Yes. I am curious."

She sighed. "Well, you seem to have some epic family issues, probably worse than mine. You talk about your brother and father like they aren't even related to you. You don't talk about your mom, really. Those are red flags."

He was listening intently, his lips thin, his posture anxious and alert. "And?"

"And, you play games with people. I don't think you care about other people very much."

After another pause, he said with false gaiety, "Anything else?"

"No, that's about it."

He turned away slightly and said in a rough voice, "And you like me despite these failings?"

"Hell, yes. I hate my family and I don't like other people, either. It's not a failing. But I'm honest with them."

He turned to look at her in puzzlement. "Why?"

"'Cause it's the easiest thing, I guess. I'm not very complicated."

"I find you more than complicated."

"Keep up the compliments. But less talk, more walk." She sat closer to him and put her arms around him. He relaxed a little.

"Don't you mean, less talk, more c--"

She kissed him before he could finish the sentence.

It turned out that, more than telling tales about himself, he wanted to hear about her life. She told him of her childhood in an urban wilderness, of being cast out to roam in the streets at the earliest age by a mother who said she was a curse, a mother who lied about her father more to preserve her own sense of dignity than to quiet the fears of her daughter. Faith felt safer on the streets more than at home, where her mother was liable to hit her for no reason, where the men who visited were anything but friends, where she would have to evade their hands as much as her mother's. Faith learned to steal at an early age, to grab fruit from a stand, to take clothes from a dryer, to lift more than one newspaper to sell or use as blankets, to run like fire.

Then she became a Slayer. For the first time, she could fight back against those who hit her. For the first time, she could take what she wanted without running away. For the first time, she had a purpose in her life, and she had support, in a Watcher. Best of all, Faith loved killing vampires. For the first time, her life made sense.

"I only became a Slayer because Buffy died. Otherwise I'd be back in Boston now, living the dream of low expectations."

"I read that the Golden One lives. I was not aware she had died."

"Goldie died a couple of times. The first time, she only died for a few seconds, enough to bring another Slayer into existence. That one was killed, so I started my Slayer gig. I was supposed to step into Buffy's shoes. Then I heard she was still alive, and I didn't know what to think. I was the Slayer, the legitimate one -- The Slayer. She lost that title the first time. Anyway, I went to Sunnydale, because that's where it was happening. Ground zero for evil. I met Buffy there. I told you all this."

"I'd like to hear it again."

"Well, at first I thought it was cool. It was like having a sister, a big sister, like I told you. We had fun. We slayed together, we played together. I dug her, too, more than friends, if you know what I mean. I think she was interested, but it was way outside her comfort level."

"Hmmm," he murmured softly, as if not at all surprised.

"We were different people. She became judgmental and preachy: 'you're not special because you're a Slayer,' 'you can't do whatever you want,' 'you're not a killer' -- as if that isn't all a Slayer is. And you know, one Slayer at a time -- we were special."

"Without doubt."

"She was so ... she was raised to be a shiny, gold crown, prom queen. On my best day, I couldn't get close enough to spit at runner-up. And she had tight friends, that tried to be by her side when she fought. They didn't trust me. They might have been jealous of the time she and I spent together. Or maybe they were right about me. I had some issues back then. I still do."

"You had no allies?"

"Lone wolf all the way. Buffy was a once-in-a-lifetime thing... except for someone else, a vampire with a soul. You can't get away from them in this business."

"Tell me about this vampire. It is said to be impossible for vampires to have souls."

"And yet I know one who does, Angel. He came through for me when I was at my worst. I returned the favor. We keep doing that dance, helping each other out. We might be even now. He went his way, and I'm... going your way, for a while, at least."

"Mmmm," he replied non-committally.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, of course. Angel, the vampire with a soul. He is your friend."

"More like demon-buddy."

"Like me."

She laughed. "You're just my paycheck."

"I'm a bit more than that."

"You're not a demon."

"You sound quite certain."

"Of course I am."

"I could be hiding my true identity. I could be something monstrous under this skin."

"I would have seen it by now. I had a Watcher. She taught me the signs. Didn't help with the Mayor, though. That's another story."

"You can't stop the tale after a statement like that."

"I don't know what you find interesting in all this."

"Don't imply that you are not interesting or worthy of my attention, Faith," he admonished, "for I find you to be both, and nothing you have said has proved me wrong."

She sighed. "When I realized I didn't fit with the Scooby Gang, what Buffy's group called themselves, I fell in with the head of the city, the Mayor. Or maybe he took me in. Anyway, he turned out to be major evil. He wasn't a demon, but he stayed young for over two hundred years through deals with demons and human sacrifice. I knew that, but I didn't care. He was, well, more like a dad to me than anyone I ever met."

He whispered, "Having no real parents."

"Not that ever stood up for me. They never wanted me, except as a way to get a welfare check."

He scooted even closer to her, his arms embracing her in a comforting gesture. "Go on."

"Buffy put me in a coma, you know that, unconscious for a long time, just lying there with these nightmares. When I woke up, Buffy had killed the Mayor, but I was the one they called a murderer. I, well, I went insane. I started destroying things. I went on a rampage. I went after Buffy. I couldn't help myself. That's what I thought at the time. I went to a really dark place."

He buried his nose in her hair. The coolness of his breath sent a wave of pleasure along her scalp. "You came back."

"The world was in danger, as usual."

She turned to face Loki. "Look, Buff 'n' I are buds now. Well, not really. I still kind-of resent her. I guess that's natural. I wish I didn't."

She turned her head back. "I told you I stole her identity once. I also partnered up with another Slayer against her recently. But she says it's all right. She learned from the experience. She always gets good out of bad. Not like me."

"Again you demean yourself to make others look better," he protested. "You had a difficult life, but you came through it intact, and that's good. You have me, and I'm good."

She laughed again. "You're bad all the way through."

"You said some weeks ago that I was neither bad nor crazy!"

"I did say that. But that's not what I mean. You're a classic bad boy. I wouldn't be attracted to you if you weren't."

"So, you're attracted to me," he said, nipping her neck and making her yelp.

"See, that's what I mean. Sure, you're a prince..."

He took her earlobe into his mouth and bit gently, his cold breath tickling her ear. "I was a king."

"What bad boy isn't a king in his own world?"

"I will show you who's a king in this world." His mouth played along her neck, and she decided to let herself be ruled.

She watched him one evening as he went to relieve himself along the riverside. He stood proud and tall on the bank, white in the moonlight except for the mane of black hair that hung down his back and grew longer each day. A stream of glittering gold hit the shifting bands of black and white that formed the river. Everything he did seemed noble, graceful, and secure. He held himself as if nothing could touch him, as if all was his by natural right and he had decided in his benevolence to let it exist. She couldn't help admiring him.

He came back to the makeshift campsite and gave her a thoughtful, confident smile. "Will you not sleep?"

"Not tonight."

"We can go wandering, if it pleases you, while the moon bathes the mountain in light."

"Aren't you afraid in these woods?"

"What is there to fear?"

"Wolves, or worse, werewolves."

He laughed and sat beside her. "The wolves in Midgard are puppies compared to those of Asgard. I should like to meet a werewolf, however."

"You're nuts."

"So you have said. I do not know what you mean by it."

"I don't mean anything. It's just an expression."

He had begun to think, his forehead furrowed. He sat next to her, but didn't touch her or even look at her. "I was pondering something you said, about vampires. What is a soul?"

"Damn, Loki. It's never anything simple with you. You should ask that philosopher friend of yours."

He smiled brazenly. "I am."

She tried to come up with an answer. "It is our part of the divine, whatever that is -- the whole, I guess. People have different ideas. A soul isn't like a conscience that tells us right from wrong, but without one, you wouldn't know the difference. It keeps us from being monsters."

"Monsters are not part of the divine?"

"I don't know. I don't think about it. I can't ask those questions and do what I do."

"You mean questions like, 'Why is it permissible to kill demons but not humans?'"

"I don't have a problem killing something that's trying to kill me, or take my soul."

He looked out over the river. "I do not have as high an opinion of humans as you do. To me, demons are leeches, but humans are their willing prey. Neither deserves significant regard. Although, leeches may serve a beneficial function."

"Have to take you word for it."

He looked up, his eyes playful under long lashes. "Do you believe I have a soul?"

"Some people say only humans have them, but I don't know."

"There are costs for having a soul, if I understand correctly, a price to pay."

"It costs the vampire I know lots of pain and guilt."

"I never feel guilt."

"I used to think I didn't either. Regret-free, that was me. Deep down, it was a lie. I was hurting my soul."

"Wasn't it rather that others said your soul was in jeopardy, and you moved towards their opinion?"

"No, it's a personal thing. I am aware of it, even here and now."

"And it isn't merely an awareness or expectation that's been reinforced for so long it feels natural, the way you can be taught one truth all your life and even when you find out it was a lie, you can still feel it to be true?"

"Like a phantom limb, right? That happened with my father. I found out what he was, after believing some B.S. my mother told me. Still, I wanted so much for him to be a real father who cared about me. And when he came along and pretended to be that, I played like I believed it was true. Then he showed his true colors. He just wanted to use me. But deep down, I still don't want to believe he's that stone-cold heartless. It'll probably never stop hurting."

Loki was brooding over something. He asked, "Does your father still have a soul, then, after telling such a lie? What is his price if only you pay?"

She shrugged. "Tough questions. The reality is that he doesn't have a daughter, and he will always be worse off for it. That won't change him, though. And it's not really for me to decide his fate. The church my mom used to ship me off to says I have to love him, anyway, not judge him. I'm not that good a person."

"And if he doesn't love or doesn't care?" She could tell Loki was following a train of thought.

"I think he can love, but he's selfish and cowardly. He's got his fear and he's not going to move from it. He'll never have a good life, not really. He's not like you, who tries for something better."

"You don't know that I am able to love," he said with chilling finality. His face reflected barely concealed distress. He seemed so fragile. Faith reached out to touch his shoulder, but he got up and walked into the night, leaving Faith at a loss for what to do.

She spent the night worrying about him. She finally decided she could just be there for him if he wanted to talk. He was a complicated person, or whatever he was. There were layers upon layers there. She could wait. Besides, she cared about him. Even if things went wrong, like they always did, she still cared.

He walked back into camp in the morning and acted too much like it was a normal day.

"Come here." She opened her arms.

He glanced at her with suspicion, then dismissal. "Giving orders to a god is not an approach likely to succeed."

She got up as if she was going to pass him to go to the river, but once she got to him, she pounced, her arms holding him tightly.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, looking down at her with haughty indifference.

"I missed you, a lot." She kissed him. Despite being a god, his face was breaking into a look of childish wonder. "You can also count on me to be ticked off when you leave and don't tell me where you're going -- always."

"Always for a mortal is a morning's walk along the river for me," he said. He made a sad face, but began returning her kisses with urgency.

One morning, after he had breathed her name in pleasure many times, she asked, "Am I different from the women of Asgard? I've been meaning to ask you."

He turned condescending green eyes on her. "Of course you are different." He smiled wryly. "That's not necessarily a fault."

"How? Do they have three heads? Enormous feet?"

"Larger feet, certainly." He smiled before becoming pensive. "Goddesses are known for their perfect beauty. They embody elegance, charm, poise, and often, seduction. Men will fight over Aesir women, and barter for their favors. Sometimes, it seems this is why the goddesses exist, for, with few exceptions -- the warrior maiden, the childlike sister, the sorceress crone-- they rely on their appearance to succeed in life. The danger they pose to Asgard is such that their appeal is restricted to the realm and they must travel with male warriors or rely on their magic if out they seek to venture forth. They have learned to hide themselves from those who historically covet the Aesir or the even more perfect Vanir, for seeing their perfection inflames the unworthy beyond all reason and imperils the realm." He made a dismissive look and rolled his eyes. "Or so we have all been told."

"Wouldn't want to be a goddess. Wasn't it tough to be around them?"

"As a child, I barely noticed females. There was only my mother and our servants, who were beneath my notice. As I grew older, yes, they were distracting. They did not, however, merit my attention." He grimaced, then looked at her with a shy sincerity. "I far prefer your imperfections to their beauty."

"Imperfections? Way to get into a girl's pants."

"It's worked so far." He took her face in his hands. "I don't mean to detract from your beauty."

"What could you see in me that's better than perfection?"

"I see a smile with no ridicule in it. I see amusement at the world and at yourself. I see a face with nothing in it against me."

Faith couldn't believe she was starting to blush. "And what about my knockout looks?"

He turned her face in his hands and said in a critical voice, "There's a puffiness in your cheeks, as if you have just awoken, or perhaps as a Slayer, you've been hit on the face once too often. Your eyes turn down as if your face was put on upside-down. Your mouth is a pout."

She pursed her lips. "You're getting colder, just so you know."

He kissed her. "Your lips form a lazy smile. Your eyes bear lashes heavy in their luxury. The dimples in your cheeks, your arched eyebrows -- you have such an expressive face, full of nonchalance and joi de vivre, sadness and wickedness."

"Warmer. Less French."

"Your eyes are large and warm, and alive with promise. Your body is full and soft, and alive with promise. Everything about you is generous."

"OK, stop. High score."

"I do hope I get a suitable reward. I've never had to work so hard."

"What, perfect women of Asgard didn't demand it?"

He had that irritated look. "The women of Asgard: wives, mothers, or whores, their lives belong to the man they choose, or persuade to choose them. You are not like them. You do not act as if you are superior to others because of the men with whom you associate. You do not defer to men at all."

"I don't think I'm superior to anyone, if that's what you mean."

"You also do not have it in you to lie. Asgard contains not one honest woman."

Her eyes blazed with seriousness. "If women in Asgard are so stuck up, you might be better off sticking with human women."

Loki looked downcast. "That I doubt."

"I don't. I spent most of my time with women, the past few years. Potential Slayers. They're all pretty messed up, like me -- it's standard issue with Slayers -- but there isn't a more upstanding group of people around. Watchers are gone. They tried to hold us back, control us. Buffy changed that, and so did I. We don't need men, I guess. In fact, I'd say most of us have had problems with men, because they've tried to limit our power. But we live and work with men, and some Slayers have guy friends and boyfriends."

"Slayers are exceptional. They are not like other mortals."

"We _are_ like other women. Give us props for putting up with male egos and keeping stuff together."

He looked as though he was considering what she said. "Props I will give to you." He jumped to his feet and offered his hand.

When they weren't hiking or getting food, or sitting around talking, or pressing against each other in desperate need, they sparred. Faith learned some techniques from her first Watcher, but she was mostly self-taught. She pummeled opponents with strength instead of using finesse. Loki noticed this and was able to resist. He told her he trained all his life to be a fighter. Having mastered all the known techniques, he developed his own style of fighting. He relied on the use of surprise and weapons that allowed him to keep a distance from opponents. Loki and Faith taught each other, street fighting versus the use of long-range weapons. Even so, Faith's style remained getting close and getting physical right away, while he evaded and waited for an opening.

Faith's fighting had determination that Loki's lacked. She was engaging in life-or-death battles, while he was merely playing or trying on a style to see if it suited him. However, because he was so much bigger than she was and weighed ten times more than her, and because he was quick and observant, he always won when they got into serious sparring. If he didn't get too cocky, it may have been because he never saw her as a serious threat. He seemed to genuinely appreciate the effort she put into their exercise.

The days got shorter and the nights longer. Despite the kaleidoscope of color in the trees, the lack of light depressed her. Though it had been a dry summer, as the season wore on, each day seemed to threaten rain. The temperature began to plummet. Faith piled her clothes on, but was always cold. Loki's frosty touch didn't help.

Loki seemed to thrive in the cold, diving into tempestuous waters, running along mountain paths, attending to the camp half-naked in his leather pants or a towel wrapped around his hips, while she heaved his leather coat over layers of clothes to keep warm.

The colder it got, the more extreme the risks he took. One day, she followed him up a path to the side of a cliff. They were at the edge of a bowl of granite. The rock face fell a thousand feet to a wooded valley floor. A strip of water fell from the opposite side, so far away it was silent. A sharp wind howled along the cliff face.

She turned from valley to find he had disappeared from sight. He often played hiding games, standing in front of her one moment, vanishing in the blink of an eye. He could throw his voice, too, so he appeared to be in many places at once. He was a total trickster. It made her angry, because he would ambush her, laughing, and not see any problem with it. Even if she tried to be ready for his sudden appearance, he made her nervous. It reminded her of the mountain lion story. And with her reflexes, she was afraid she was going to attack him by mistake and drive a spear or knife through him.

She looked over the cliff, but still she didn't see him. She began to worry. The drop was merciless and bleak.

Then she caught a glimpse of green higher up the mountain's face. He must have climbed the rock wall. She couldn't follow him there.

He strode straight to another edge and took in the valley, a wild expression on his face. Faith felt her stomach leap into her mouth.

"Come back," she asked in a trembling voice, trying to keep her concern out of it. "Loki, come here."

He either mistook her meaning, or he was crazy with excitement, for he sprang down to her and began to kiss her as if it was their last day together. His mouth smothered hers. He soon had her pants off and began to thrust into her. He came with a cry of feral joy.

Faith would normally have been up for rough sex against the rocks, but she was covered with sweat from the climb and feeling vulnerable so close to a vertical wall. There was something exhilarating about it, breathless on the top of the world at the edge of death, but she started to shake from the cold and that completely took the thrill away. He was also not paying attention to how heavy he was. He was crushing the air out of her.

Loki pushed himself off of her, smiling and panting. His face soon contorted with alarm. "You're blue!" He jumped away from her as if she was poisoned.

She stuttered out, "C-can't breathe. F-freezing cold." She struggled to take the thin air into her lungs.

He frantically began to help her back into her clothes while she rubbed herself to get warm. She actually had trouble moving her arms and legs, and she felt sleepy. He offered to carry her to get her to the campsite faster. She told him walking would make her heat up. She didn't say that being next to him would have made her feel even more miserably cold. He already seemed shaken by what had happened.

On the way to the campsite and its store of wood, Faith explained, "I won't be able to stay here when the temperature goes down. I know the cold doesn't bother you, but we humans can't take it, not like this." She was reluctant to talk about the things that had started to bother her, but she did. "Besides, I have a job to do. While I've been here, who knows what's happening down below? I mean, I love you and all, but I'm a Slayer. It's what I do."

He appeared to be deep in thought as she spoke. He asked in a small voice, as if afraid to say it, "You love me?"

"Yeah. I do."

He didn't say anything for a while. Finally, he asked, "What does it mean, when you say you love me?"

Faith wasn't prepared for this, even though she knew he dissected every thought and emotion, and was maybe a little sensitive and insecure.

"It means... that I accept who you are, warts and all, and I like who you are, that who you are is important to me, as part of my life, that I believe I will always want you to be part of my life. Geez, I don't know. It means you matter to me, a lot, probably more than anyone else."

He frowned and asked, "And what do you find to be my warts?"

"You took that out of what I just said?" She shook her head. "I really don't want to get into it now."

"If you claim to love me..."

"It's not a claim, OK? It's a fact. Don't put me down like that."

He visibly reined in a retort, then went ahead anyway. "And what do you expect of me?"

She cursed inwardly. "I'm not asking anything of you. I didn't even mean to tell you. But, so what? It is what it is. I care about you, and that will probably stay true for as long as we are together. Which won't be long if we don't get back to camp where I can get warm."

He was chastened by this. He said nothing for a while, but as they neared the camp, he asked, "How long do you envision us being together?"

A sadness overcame her, as she answered, "I don't know. Until we find this Braid-thing, I guess."

"My goals are different than yours, Lady Faith. I will return to Asgard and the destiny for which I have been raised."

"Yeah, well I'm just tryin' to stay alive. My life has been counted in days since I became a Slayer."

They reached the camp. He let out a cry of alarm. The camp had been ransacked, their few possessions strewn over the ground, their food container ripped open and its contents missing.

Loki's eyes searched the sky, his knives in his hands. Faith looked into his face and saw panic. She went immediately into a fighting stance.

She heard a grunting noise coming from the river. A huge bear was splashing in the water.

"Look," she whispered to Loki. He followed the direction of her eyes and saw the bear. His eyes became rounder before narrowing. He strode into the camp and seized his spear.

"No, Loki," Faith whispered.

Two large cubs gamboled out of the bushes to join the bear at the river.

Loki's hand clenched and unclenched against the spear, undecided what to do. Faith put her hand on his arm, and he stilled, his face troubled.

He glanced at the sky again, and at the ruined camp. "We must take our leave," he said at last. "We have remained here far too long."

He was still agitated, wavering between anger and anxiety. They hastily recovered what they could, and set off for the bus.

Faith looked back at the camp as they left and felt her sadness deepen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor 2 trailers will make this story even more AU.


	13. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Faith travel to Chicago.

Loki was pushing the schedule again. If he had his way, Faith would have been flying over the roads like a hawk before the wind. She was behind the wheel, however, and the roads were twisty and steep.

He still seemed rattled by the destruction of their camp. He frequently glanced at the sky while she drove. Dark clouds gathered each afternoon. Faith slowed to a crawl when a thunderstorm finally broke over the mountains. When fist-sized hail began to pelt the bus, she pulled to the side of the road and parked.

Loki was static with unspent energy. If he'd been a cat, he would have been standing with his back arched and his fur on end. He sat in the passenger seat, staring at the clouds, ready for any doom to befall him.

"Let's go to the back and wait this out," she suggested. She took his hand and led him to the large bed. Pulling the curtains to minimize the flashes of light, she lay down beside him, wrapping him in her arms. She told him how she used to love thunderstorms when she traveled in the summer. She imagined the lightening was her lover coming to claim her and fill her with his energy. He turned away from her, but didn't break free of her embrace.

When the storm stopped, he remained watchful and jumpy. He murmured that they needed to keep going. She got in the driver's seat, but he stayed in the back of the bus, shrouded by curtains.

Days and nights of driving and his unspoken concerns had worn her out. The mountain roads were treacherous with ice and sleet. The unnaturally quiet and dark interior of the bus increased her unease.

Loki wasn't talking. She would go back to the bed for a couple hours' rest, and he would be silent, staring at his computer screen. He seemed to be brooding over something. When she asked him about it, he said she was imagining things.

When they finally reached a highway, Faith had to stop and take stock of where they were going and how they were going to get there. When they reached Billings, Faith pulled alongside a motel and got a room for the night. Loki said nothing. He acted indifferent, but he followed her to the room.

Once there, he sat upon the bed, more drained than traveling should have made him, especially since Faith was doing all the work. She didn't care. She just wanted to get a rise from him.

She knelt before him, pulled his knees apart, and began to unbutton his jeans. He looked at her with astonishment, but he was soon giving himself up to her touch, watching her until he had to close his eyes in resigned ecstacy. He threw his head back, exposing the white bob of his Adam's apple. She took that as an invitation to kiss his neck as she climbed into his lap, sinking atop him. 

It felt like they'd been apart forever. They moved in a gentle rhythm until Faith tripped onto the brink and sped up. They fell into desperate wrestling, each trying to get as close as they could to the other. They ended up on the floor, Loki putting his full weight into her until his movements became erratic and he cried out. He went down on her and she found her own anguished cries. He put his arm over her thighs and fell asleep with his head on her hip. Faith pulled the blankets off the bed and covered them both before she, too, fell asleep.

She woke to see him staring at her face with a look of curious wonder. She smiled, then reached to stroke the insistent cock pressing against her leg.

He closed his eyes and whispered, "Is this love, Lady Faith?"

"You know what it is," she replied, kissing him before he could ask another question.

She was worried that she shouldn't have told him she loved him. She'd always heard that you never admit those kinds of things, that it would scare a guy away. It had never been a problem, though. She had never said the word "love" to anyone before him. A whole lifetime of people and she could never pin that feeling on any of them. But with him, the word just came out and once she'd said it, she knew it was true. It seemed like that's when everything started to go wrong. That's when he started to withdraw.

In the shower, after sliding down the wall where he had held her, Faith remarked, "Sure glad I'm a superwoman."

He repressed a grin, and remarked, "Bragging again."

"Not a brag if it's true."

He looked calculating, like he was planning his next assault. She ducked under the water. She wanted to at least be clean for it. But he gave up whatever scheme he was thinking of and stepped out of the shower. 

He posed at the mirror, fingering his long hair into place. It had grown while they were in the woods. He never talked about cutting it. Her hair was longer, too. In camp, he would braid it in quiet moments, incorporating feathers and bits of minerals and stone, forming elaborate structures along her scalp. The best part was his passionate loosening of the braids later.

Faith dried off and went to get her make-up bag. He stepped aside as she began to assemble the items and put them on her face. He watched her with interest, picking up the items she discarded and turning them in his hands.

"Humans have long adorned their bodies with paint, for spiritual purposes, I understood, or to designate which groups they belonged to. For what purpose do you paint your face?"

"To look attractive."

His face registered surprise. "To whom?"

"Men."

"Does it work?"

"Haven't had any trouble."

"But you've said you could attract men just by existing."

"Yeah, well..."

"Will you attempt to attract men tonight?" His words were clipped.

"No. Just you."

"You have no need to wear this to attract me."

"I'm so used to wearing make-up, I feel undressed without it."

"'Make-up' -- as in 'made up,' telling lies?"

"Never thought of it that way. Does it bother you?"

He smiled in a pleasant way. "Quite the contrary. I find it intriguing."

"My mother called it war paint."

He examined the lipstick with renewed interest. "It gives you protection in battle as well as drawing in those you wish to attract?"

"I'm not sure it protects. Its magic is in the eye of the beholder."

He carefully applied the blood red lipstick to his lips, which made a sly grin against his pale face, framed by his long, black hair. "Am I attractive?"

She was nearly speechless. "Wow. You look... you know, you have an amazing face."

His grin became even wider and more wicked.

"I can't believe I said that. I usually like my men to be men."

His dark red lips settled into a bemused smile. "I am still Loki."

"Yeah, you are. It's just that, men don't wear lipstick, not if they want to be taken seriously. Only women wear lipstick."

"No-one takes women seriously."

She reached out to grab the lipstick, but he caught her wrist. "I am a god and I do as I like," he informed her. 

He pulled her into a kiss. His waxed lips slid against hers. Her tongue darted out to taste the lipstick on his mouth. Her lips pulled against his as the tacky substance increased the friction. She deliberately left a cheeky smear along the side of his face. She could get used to him wearing lipstick.

He broke their kiss with a deep, breathy chuckle. His mouth assumed its devious shape as he reached into her bag and took out one of her sex toys. There was mischief in his voice as he stated, "I need not ask the purpose of this."

"It helps when, you know, whenever."

His eyes twinkled as he gave her a sideways look, his eyebrows moving up. "It's not very large."

"Not as large as you, maybe, but it vibrates. You should try it sometime."

He turned his face from her. After a hesitant moment, he said quietly, "I would like to, try it."

Just when she didn't think he could be more perfect. "Cool with me."

She had asked him to do the same to her in the bus, when they spent their first nights together. He was horrified at the idea, even though she assured him he wouldn't hurt her. He still refused. He also acted strangely afterwards, as if he was confused as to where he was. That's when they decided to leave the abandoned airfield.

She was gentle with him. He was nervous, but his wide eyes and shallow breath also let her know he was eager.

She began by kissing him and putting her hand at the bottom of his spine, working her way down until her finger circled his entrance. He was tense at first, but relaxed as she stroked him gently while kissing and breathing her way down the side of his body. She replaced her finger with her tongue, working it in to loosen him. He cried out in small yips. She grabbed some lube from her bag and began to smooth its slipperiness into him with her fingers. He had fallen to his stomach, and was writhing on the bed and was trembling into the sheets.

When she finally had the vibrator moving steadily inside him, her other hand rubbed his back instead of bringing him off right away. It was wonderful to see him fall under her spell. She was proceeding at a cautious pace. He put himself completely into her hands. He even said she could tie him up, but she didn't want to chance a repeat of his earlier panic attack.

At some point, she reached up to his face to find his cheek was wet. He must have been crying in silence. Alarmed, she stopped. Between gasps, he joked that she would pay dearly if she didn't continue. As fun as that sounded, she put her arm around him and told him he was the most beautiful and sexy man she had ever known.

When he had started making small moans, rutting into the pillows, she reached around him to circle his cock in her warm and lubricated hand. His back arched into her, giving her complete access to him. She tried to keep both hands in rhythm, but his frantic movement threw her off. He choked out a cry as he came. He folded his long body into the sheets and shuddered from sobs that lasted several minutes after.

Faith didn't know what to do except hold him and tell him it was OK, she was sorry if she hurt him. He told her he was unharmed; it had only felt good and he hadn't expected that.

But after that, he started to refer to himself in the third person. He talked about Loki's higher purpose and the necessity to reclaim Loki's position. When she asked him who exactly this Loki was, he gave her some answer that sounded fancy, about fire and fear, but made no sense. To her mind, he was basically admitting that he didn't know, and that seemed to scare him, though he pretended it was no big thing.

Faith turned on the TV, hoping something interesting would be on. He switched to the news, which showed some commotion in New York. Loki watched the report with an irritated frown. Well, if S.H.I.E.L.D. asked, she could at least say he was with her.

The program cut to commercials. The first had a woman saying she loved her new dishwashing liquid. The next was someone who loved her yogurt choices. Loki watched these with a face as grim as the one for the news. He stated, "Love is a word used by female mortals to convince others they should purchase their goods. It is a word empty of meaning."

She felt like she had to say, "Not everything is for sale. Not everything is a lie."

He didn't respond. Instead, he picked up her black nail polish and began applying it to the fingernails of his elegant hands.

She put a coat of red over her nails. Leaving the black would have been too matchy.

She hoped getting out on the streets would give him something good to focus on. She convinced him not to wear most of her make-up and to tie his hair back. He refused to remove the black nail polish that "Loki" put on. She liked the uncomfortable way the people they met in Billings reacted to it, especially since she knew that anyone who wanted to prove something would be surprised by his strength and ruthless disregard for their well-being. It worried her that she felt that way, though, superior, like him.

Loki bought more clothes in Billings, suits and long coats made for colder weather. He seemed to be psychologically armoring himself with these power clothes. He stood in front of store mirrors, posed like a conquering hero before the quaking masses.

Back at the bus, he began to wear scarves they found in a drawer. The weather had turned chilly, but nothing requiring a scarf. These scarves of silk and chiffon weren't for weather as much as for show. They were covered with patterns similar to the one on her arm, magical symbols. She didn't remember Raar wearing a scarf. She didn't know why they were in the bus.

He wore them around his neck, along with his increasing layers of clothes while they were in public, but he also he wore them as a sarong while they were in the privacy of the bus. He made a great show of playing with them. She didn't know if he was expressing part of his personality or if there was some stress to which he was reacting.

She was angry that he wouldn't talk about what was going on with him. When she asked if something was wrong, he gave her a flippant answer, "Loki needs naught and answers to none," which she was pretty sure meant "mind your own business."

When he talked about his former life before they left the mountains, his stories sounded like fantasies to her and they often sounded untrue, but these things didn't concern her. He treated her as if she mattered to him, as if he wanted her to be happy. He listened to her and, aside from a general dislike of humans and probably women, accepted her as she was. The only thing he complained about was her way of putting herself down. 

But in the bus, they had stopped talking about their lives, or talking about much at all. Their conversations were limited to comments on people or places they passed on the road. He left the bus less and less, letting her take care of the driving, gas and directions while he stared at the screen of the laptop computer at the back of the vehicle. He was like a sulky teen with a video game, cut off in his own world.

She worried about him. His nightmares had returned, so he stopped sleeping. He stopped eating. His face was becoming gaunt, his eyes haunted.

She worried about herself, too. She had become way too emotional. It was interfering with her capacity to plan and adapt to new situations. Crying over him, all the turmoil -- that wasn't her. She used to laugh and pretend she didn't give a damn. She was the one who pushed them out the door while making a flip remark. If this unhappiness was what love was about, she was sorry she stumbled into it. Still, she didn't want to be free from it. She sensed that would hurt worse. She already ached with missing him, and he was right there.

When they got to Minneapolis early in the evening, she found a motel. She hoped to reconnect with him and bring him out of his shell, but he said he felt no need to leave the bus.

"You said this joint echoes with bad vibes."

"It is a safe place."

"Really? You jump at any sound or change in the light. You have nightmares here."

He dismissed this, "Loki will conquer any difficulties he may encounter."

"You can't fight when you're asleep."

He looked away, the dark circles under his reddened eyes highlighted by the computer screen's persistent glare.

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

"A man would ere be held down and his lips pierced with an awl and threaded with thong, the blood a witness to his strength of resolve, as yield his shame in song to your soft ears.'"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you do not understand this speech, how then can one such as I talk to you?"

"Try being less of a smart-ass." She stomped down her irritation. She didn't want to give him a reason to think he was right to push her away. "It's pretty drastic when you'd rather have your lips sewn shut than talk to me. I'm sorry you feel that way."

He murmured, "Saying it is not wishing it to happen."

"I don't want it to happen, either." She marshaled her patience. "Look, Loki, I don't know what's bothering you. It was bad when we left the mountains, but it's gotten way worse since we left Billings. I don't know what happened there. Is it something I did?"

He turned away, almost ashamed, and said simply, "No."

"I wish you'd talk to me. But alls I know is we gotta leave this bus. If we find something bad out there, we'll fight it together."

He was still speaking in a low voice. "Strong as you are, you can't conquer all evils, Lady Faith. You would not even prevail in a battle with this prince of Asgard."

"I don't wanna fight against you. But I will fight for you. I'm not giving up on you."

He turned sad and weary eyes on her, and surrendered himself to leaving the bus.

He changed again once they prepared to leave the bus and be around people. He put on his suit-armor and acted more outgoing, almost like he had something to prove, even though she could tell his heart wasn't into it. The technology that he joked about in the wilderness, and its artificiality, was suddenly very appealing to him. He packed the computer to bring to the motel, of course, hoping that they would have wireless. She had only a vague idea what he was talking about.

She made another attempt to figure out what was happening. She thought she'd seen his behavior before, in the Slayer potentials. They didn't fit into society and they knew it, or society made sure they knew it. Their alienation made them push back to assert their identities. Instead of trying to fit in, they always styled themselves in ways that put them even more on the outside - as goths, punks, skinheads, metal heads, even one Lolita. It was pathological. She thought maybe he was doing the same thing with the make-up, painted nails, and scarves.

But she wasn't sure. When he wore her lipstick or painted his nails, it seemed natural. It was like an expression of who he was at any particular point in time, and who he was was changeable and almost always provisional. There was a core of authenticity there, but most wouldn't see it through the shifting and shimmering of the surface, so they judged based on those flickers which disappeared almost as soon as they were seen, the disappearance making them look like lies. Not that he didn't lie, but in a way, it was him playing with reality, exploring contingency plans, expressing the different aspects of his personality. 

She liked that about him. It made him interesting. Plus, he always looked ridiculously hot to her... but not if it came with a mental breakdown. She didn't think he was insane, but something was bothering him. She tried to tell him this as they got ready to go into town.

He leaned back and smiled, as if the whole thing amused him. "What does Loki have to rebel against? What is he trying to express? Perhaps it is merely that he likes the way your polish flashes black on his nails." He looked rascally. "But assume it is true. Have you never dressed to provoke?"

"If I did, there was a point to it, like dressing up for that poker game. Other than that, I don't want to draw much attention to myself."

"Really? Look at you now, in a costume that reveals more than it covers. Tell me you do not want to be the center of attention, all eyes on you, even though you yet have the attention of an ardent lover. What more could you require?"

She didn't really have his attention, though. "Most guys like their girlfriends to look nice."

"So that other men may view the pet and envy her keeper? The jealousy of mortals is a cheaply won prize. Nor are you a woman who would be thus measured."

"So, you wouldn't actually mind if I went out in a bathrobe and slippers?"

"You may do as you please."

The ground was eroding under her argument. She said with finality, "If it pleases me to be sexy, that's what I'm gonna do."

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I found you desirable without war paint, indeed without clothes."

His comments had her all confused. Maybe she was the one fooling herself. At least he made his response personal, not the opinion of "Loki" the third person.

As they left the bus, she got an uneasy feeling that they were being followed. She glanced back, but saw only darkening shadows. His hyper-vigilance must have gotten to her.

They took the bike into town to get dinner. Food was needed, but she was really looking for nightlife. She hoped dancing, music, drinks and laughter might break Loki out of his strange behavior. Music always picked her up. Besides, she needed to blow off steam before she went off on someone, probably him.

He was overdressed in layers of dark cloth, draped in scarves, wearing her mascara, lipstick, and nail polish. He wasn't trying to look like a woman. He looked like himself, only highlighted. Faith realized he could wear a dress or even women's underwear and he would still look like Loki, his features fine, his figure slender, his way of holding himself graceful and self-possessed. She had a sudden urge to see him in her panties, but she pushed the thought away with regret.

She was, if anything, under-dressed in tight pants, a tank top far too skimpy for the weather, and a leather jacket. Dancing would make her warm. She wanted to get buzzed, get loose and wild, get on the floor, and get off. She even felt like flirting. She was desperate for the suspense of raw attraction, before all the complications set in.

She glanced at Loki, who was looking around the club with poorly-concealed contempt. He was being a real pill that night. Nothing pleased him. He complained of how much he hated her world. Asgard was so much better. The old Faith would have dumped his ass and moved on. This Faith cared about him and wanted to stick with him. He brought things to her life she'd never had before. He wasn't letting her get near, though, and staying was getting harder to do.

Three grunge-era guys, plaid shirts, loose pants, scruffy hair, came by their table, ignoring Loki altogether. They walked up to her and posed, yet looked uninterested, to show off their desirability. She'd seen it so many times, she wanted to laugh. She blew them off with a joke about the place being wrong, not them, and they left. They must have made Loki defensive and thus aggressive. He began to tell her she should talk to them, as she had attracted them, and wasn't that what she wanted, with her lack of clothing and painted lies? 

She was so pissed off, she gave a speculative once-over to one of the guys. His teeth flashed below his upper lip, and she realized why all three were attracted to her. It wasn't her dark make-up, her barely-there tank top or her tight leather pants. She was catnip for a particular kind of cat, just like all Slayers were. It was an ancient dance, and always a battle over who would lead. She was looking to dance.

She told Loki she needed some air. She said it in an abrupt way, like she was mad, so he wouldn't follow her. She hoped he wouldn't get the wrong idea, that she was ditching him, but he probably deserved whatever he felt if he did think that.

As she rounded the hall to where the bathrooms were and headed toward the back exit, she grabbed a wooden stool beside a pay phone. She broke off the legs once she got outside.

The three guys appeared in the alley right behind her, fast and famished.

"Hey, fellas. Great night for hunting." Three vampires set their eyes her, their faces contorting with blood lust. She got into a fighting stance.

She dusted one vamp so quickly with the jagged edge of a thrown table leg, the other two didn't realize the danger they faced. She laid out a second with a trashcan kicked to the head. He was still conscious, but groggy. She would get to him later.

The third took his chance to rush her, knocking the remaining sticks out of her hand. With his momentum, he pushed her against a trash skiff.

She went berserk, pummeling the vampire with both fists. The vampire took the blows, letting her get close. He finally reached out and grabbed her around the arms in a crushing grip.

"Bad move," Faith growled, trying to ram him with her forehead, trying to find any area where she could inflict injury with her feet.

"So this is how you behave while I'm not around. You're a terrible liar, by the way," Loki's amused voice informed her. It made her even more furious. She broke the vampire's hold and somersaulted towards the chair legs, only to find they were no longer there. "Looking for these?" She swung around to see Loki holding three sticks of wood.

The vampire charged her, yelling to his revived friend, "You get Prince." Silver knives flew through the air. They only slowed the surprised second vampire for a second.

It was enough of a distraction for Faith to get the upper hand on the vampire attacking her. She began to beat him mercilessly, until he was reeling. Realizing that she was losing control again, she yelled to Loki, "Throw me a chair leg." Loki's aim and force were such that the stake appeared in her hand as if by magic. She buried the stake in the vampire's chest, not even watching him explode, but rather turning to fight the one who went after Loki.

Loki had his hand around the vampire's neck, holding him at arm's length, examining him as if he were a specimen under glass. Silver knives sunk deep into what would have been the vampire's jugular, heart, and wrists. The more the vampire struggled, the more delighted Loki's expression. He reminded Faith of a cat playing with a mouse. 

"Wooden stake through the heart," Faith advised.

Loki was too caught up in examining the vampire to pay attention to her. She didn't know what Loki intended to do, but the calculating and frankly joyful look on his face disturbed her.

She grabbed one of the the chair legs off the ground where Loki had dropped it and shoved it through the vampire's chest. The vamp disintegrated, leaving her face-to-face with a fascinated Loki, eyes gleaming, smile wide and bright, mind turning over possibilities too fast for Faith to follow.

Afterwards, in the motel, all he wanted to talk about was vampires. He wanted to know everything she knew. He was hugely impressed with her fighting ability. He was almost back to his enthusiastic, curious self.

But the paranoia was back, too. He wanted to know why the vampire called him Prince. She explained who Prince was and that they called him that because he was wearing a long coat, make-up and scarves. He didn't seem convinced.

Most frustrating of all, she couldn't get him interested in sex. He was too wound up. She was actually feeling sick and tired, but her mind said she had just killed vampires and she had to complete the cycle in the way she always did, if she could. He was the one she wanted.

She decided to try something new to grab his attention. Loki was fond of play and he was fond of cold. She wanted to show him how to play with ice. She was pretty sure he would go for it, and it would be good for him. Sex always helped her.

She grabbed the plastic bucket on the dresser and left the room for the ice machine.

She normally wouldn't have given a second thought to the deserted concrete walkway with its identical doors facing the parking lot. However, a few steps from the room, she felt a cool breeze. Turning, she saw a shadow absorb into a post and disappear. She turned back and went to the turn in the path where a dumpy ice machine sat against the wall. Her skin crawled again. She turned and got a glimpse of Loki's face before it melted into the shadows of the parking lot. On the way back, she saw him hiding in the row of bushes along the road that, at night, formed a low black wall around the motel.

Faith had never liked being mistrusted. Anyone who tried to pull a prank on her quickly learned it was a bad idea. She had a hard enough time getting used to Loki's antics in the forest. Like him, she had a low level of trust in the goodwill of others and a high level of wariness. Loki was one of the few people she released her guard for. That was wearing thin.

She stomped back to the room and dumped the bucketful of ice on Loki, who was lying on the bed, reading the motel's Bible.

He jumped up and shook the ice to the ground. He seemed more confused than angry. "Is this a custom of Midgard with which I am unfamiliar?"

His cool demeanor only made her more livid. "What's your game?"

"Um... Hnefatafl? Truth or Dare? Some other mortal pastime? You tell me."

"You're creeping around after me."

"Do you mean in general, or... how?"

"You followed me out to the ice machine."

"I have been here since you left."

"I saw you!"

"You could not have."

Faith didn't think he was lying, but what other explanation was there? She felt like storming out of the room so she could think. She had been sure it was him.

He made a thoughtful face, then confessed, "I believe we are being followed. I've noticed it since we stayed in Billings." He stepped towards the door. "I will replace your ice and survey the ground. Please lock the door behind me."

As soon as he left the room, she saw a man's shadow at the window. She heard a light rapping on the door.

"Loki?"

There was no response. She looked around the room for a weapon. She heard a shout from outside, and opened the door, to see Loki standing in the corridor, the bucket crumpled in his hand.

She asked, "Did you see anything?"

"I saw a shadow at the door. Whoever cast it ran away."

The rest of the night, he paced the floor, fury etched in his face, especially when she confirmed that the person looked like him. He only saw a shadow, brown in color.

His pacing again reminded her of Napoleon in a movie she had seen, where he put his arms behind his back and walked as he thought, the Corsican forced to defend his difference among the French until he was more French than they were and their little general. Loki couldn't have been further from that. But as Loki's impatience and need to do something ratcheted up, Faith grew more concerned than ever that he was losing it and might even be, well not full-blown insane like S.H.I.E.L.D. said, but still mentally unstable.

They left at the earliest morning hour. They traveled through green landscapes towards Chicago. Cars behind them ended up passing them on the road. She hoped that if someone was following them, they gave him the slip.

In Madison, Faith stopped the bus. She needed to stretch after hours of driving.

She couldn't get Loki out of the bus, so she left on her own to walk the Ice Age Trail. She felt free in the open air, surveying the green fields. Not for the first time, she thought of the mountains and the Loki who had been with her there, competent, steady, and passionate about life and about her. She wondered if she was ever going to find her way back to that person.

She was angry with herself, because she didn't know what to do. She didn't want to confront him again and drive him further away. On the other hand, if he really was in trouble, she didn't want to leave him hanging on his own. This wasn't her kind of problem. She could only fix things she could kill.

The afternoon turned to early evening, and the shadows lengthened along the path. She turned at the sound of a footfall, and there was Loki, standing still in the middle of the road, staring at her. He was hiding something in his hand. She started to go towards him, but he remained immobile like he was in a trance, not acknowledging her presence.

Then she heard voices behind her. She turned to greet two elderly walkers coming up the trail. When she turned back, Loki was gone. The elderly couple had seen no-one else on the path.

She got back to the bus in the dark to find Loki gone. She closed the door and decided she wouldn't open it no matter how much noise he made. He didn't come back, however, until the next morning, when he struggled up the stairs to the door she had opened hours before, hoping for his return.

He looked worse than ever. His clothes hung off him. His hair was greased back with neglect. His face carried a harried, lost desperation. He seemed to have been running, though his clothes were dry and he was scarcely out of breath. He had spiraled down so quickly, she felt like she was suffering from vertigo just looking at him.

Faith sat beside him and put her arm around him, anything to relieve his obvious misery.

"Where were you?" she asked.

He didn't respond.

"Were you on the trail?"

"At some point, I must have been."

"Did you see me?"

"No."

"I saw you," she told him.

He rubbed his forehead with his long fingers. "I chased it all night," he told her, "but never came near it, nor saw more than shadow. And you say it walked right up to you?"

"It didn't walk right up." She kissed the side of his face and put her other arm around him, but he was unresponsive. If anything, he radiated frustration and worry.

They finally got to Chicago. Faith had trouble finding a place to park the large bus. She wanted to get rid of it, even if it mean locking it and walking away, but she didn't want to fight Loki about it.

He was back to his jaunty, self-assured act now they were close to completing his goal. He dressed in a long coat and scarves, but beyond that he looked like a normal human stockbroker, if a little taller. He tied his hair back with a leather thong.

He found directions to the address Raar had given him. They set off on a bright workday afternoon.

They found themselves on the walkways running along the river under the street level. At an intersection, under a bridge, a dark corner filled with construction cones and debris hid a grimy municipal works doorway. Loki knocked a patterned song on the door.

A demon wearing loose human skin, looking like one of those Sharpey dogs, peered through a crack in the door and asked what they wanted. Loki recited a pass phrase Raar had given him. It sounded like "kill all humans" to Faith. She wondered if Raar sent them to the League of Robots.

The door scraped with weight and rust as the demon opened it to let them in. They went through a series of windowless shotgun rooms, each more dark and empty than the next. Some of the rooms had side doors, as if they went off in different directions. All the doors were closed.

Loki and Faith ended up in a cavern-like dead-end with only one doorway for escape, and that blocked by two large, lizard-like demons.

They waited there for forty-five minutes on their feet. Loki attempted small talk with the guards, mostly to make fun of them, asking them if they were bothered by flies or did they just eat them, were they shedding or was that some other skin condition, did the cold make them burrow in tunnels, things like that. Faith didn't waste her breath. She knew they were trying to wear down their confidence, get them nervous or furious at being ignored. Loki seemed to know this, as well. He got merrier and more outrageous as the time passed, speculating in great detail about how they laid eggs and otherwise reproduced.

Finally, a husky, lizardy demon lumbered into the room. Loki waited for him to introduce himself.

After an awkward interval, the lizard said, "Well?"

Loki looked down and gestured with his arms out. "I am Loki, of Asgard. You are?"

"You know what we are called."

Loki averted his eyes in brief annoyance. "I have come to you in search of a trinket mentioned in the ancient lore of my people. I am told you might know if its whereabouts. The gratitude of all Asgard, and more practical rewards, of course, await the one who can lead me to this item."

"The Braid of Souls."

Loki bowed slightly, then swept back, smirking. "Word of our pursuit has preceded us."

"We expected you sooner."

Loki leered at Faith. "I was detained with my lady." So, he was still playing that card.

The demon looked at Faith impassively. "We expected something different, a woman men kill over."

"She is more of a doll I use to pass the time, but I would gladly kill for her, should you ask it."

"That's what we heard." The demon's mouth split into a reptilian grin. "You might be worth more dead than alive. You crossed some powerful individuals, jacked up their reputations. We heard you killed their clients. We heard you're still traveling in one of their cars."

"It's a bus." Loki looked unperturbed. "I'd be willing to part with it for a trifle, if you'd like... along with the pictures its owner kept on his computer. I assume their worth far exceeds that of the bus."

"Generous, considering we got you here."

"More generous than you realize. The computer is set to be destroyed on contact. I could be persuaded to stop this loss, as a gesture of goodwill."

"If you have pictures, you know what kind of persuasion you will receive from us. We see you wear one of the scarves now."

"I await your attempt to use it. It will not behave as you expect."

The demon continued to stare without responding.

Loki walked regally around the room. "I've already killed three demons of greater size in quarters much less suited to battle. There are three of you." Loki smiled. "Information would persuade me quicker than violence."

The demon motioned to the guards to move towards Loki and Faith. The demons took one step and dropped to the ground, victim to Loki's knives. He hit the softest spot, where their earlobes met their necks. Loki must have studied them while he to talked to them. They fell with heavy thuds and started bleeding out on the cavern's floor.

"My offer has a time limit. Five of your Earth minutes. After that, I will be delighted to watch my lady take you apart."

Faith stared at the ground to keep from rolling her eyes or rolling him onto the ground. "I'm your guide, not your hired assassin."

Loki seemed surprised and slightly ticked off that she spoke. He said between clenched teeth, "But you so enjoyed killing those gentlemen the other night."

"Who says I enjoyed it?"

"You attacked with them singular fervor."

"They started it."

"I was not aware that was a requirement," he said, calmly walking over to the corpses and removing his knives. When he finished, he walked up to the demon, looked down at him, and smiled gaily. "Four minutes."

The demon was flummoxed by the loss of his guards, the weird domestic drama between Loki and Faith, and Loki's complete lack of concern for danger. Even so, the demon made a stab at threatening them again.

"We got other guards outside."

"Do call them," Loki replied, his smile becoming more feral with anticipation.

Faith lost her patience. "Look, just give us the information and we'll let you live and throw in the bus and whatever the hell is in it. Easy deal all around."

If Loki looked put upon, the demon was raging. "Throw in your female toy. We would teach her to respect her betters."

"If you do not start talking, she will do all my speaking for me," Loki promised. "Three minutes."

The demon let the clock run down to almost five minutes, before saying, "We can talk in our office."

"We are talking now," Loki responded. "My bargain is as my lady said: Tell me the name of one who would possess the Braid of Souls. I will spare your life. Moreover, I will transfer to you the bus I travel in and all its possessions, save the female and a few other curiosities. Should you lie to me, you will regret it for an eternity before you succumb to sweet death. You have my oath on that."

The demon grumbled, but eventually spat out, "There is only one who could be connected with it. No-one can get close enough to tell if it exists, let alone pry it loose. He may not let you near. He's picky. Has been for centuries. He stays away from everyone. We hear he's in Africa. Couldn't tell you where exactly. We're not even sure what he's truly called. Only one we heard got to him -- a vampire, some schmuck who wanted a soul. We can give you the name of a dealer in London. England, that is. They keep records there, might know more."

Loki grimaced. "That is all? This is hardly worth our home and its treasures."

"No, it's fine," Faith interjected. "I want to get out of that bus as soon as we can."

Loki looked at her in disbelief and she gave him a "let's just go" frown and head jerk. He sighed and turned back to the demon. "It seems my lady wishes our departure."

The demon turned to Faith, his lizard eyes a relentless black. "We do not allow human females to speak. We would have cut out this one's tongue. She would still have a throat for screaming."

"You like screaming?" Faith curled up her fists and was ready to haul off and hit their lizard host, when she felt Loki's firm hand on her arm.

"You deal with me," Loki said simply to the demon. "Disregard the female. She will not interrupt again."

Slowly turning his eyes from Faith to Loki, the demon hissed, "What is your bargain?"

"Give me the name of your dealer in London, if this is all you have. Tell me where to leave the bus, preferably a spot both bright and populated with humans. We will turn the keys over to you and walk away. What remains will be yours to do with as you like."

"We'll give you the name when we have the bus."

Loki had no choice, so he agreed with a short nod of his head.

When they emerged on the underpass, Loki turned his whole body to loom over Faith. He was tense with anger. "Why did you insert yourself into my negotiation? I would have obtained more information from him."

"Is that what you were doing? It sounded like you were agreeing with him about human women."

He stated petulantly, "I would have killed him, solely for the way he spoke to you."

"Gee, Loki. I didn't know you cared. Trying to trade me away and all."

"Attempted barter of females is expected with the enemies of Asgard. Have you not heard of Freya?"

"No, I've never heard of Freya, but who cares? You don't own me. I make the decisions about my life."

"I left there at your expressed wish, did I not, despite not knowing your reasoning? Why did you wish to leave?"

She huffed a few moments, then explained, "I know the vampire, the schmuck with a soul."

Loki's wrath evaporated. "Is it Angel? You said he was in London."

"Not Angel."

After a few seconds, he stated, "I see." He didn't apologize, though.

She couldn't hold her feelings in any longer. "You haven't said one true thing to me for days. You use me as a bargaining chip, as if I'm your property or something. You don't tell me your plans or why you're doing things. You don't trust me to know what I'm doing. Now you tell me you care somehow, enough to do what I say! I don't think you know what the word 'care' means."

Loki strode alongside her, obviously paying attention but not saying anything.

"If you really cared, then you'd let me care about you, too. You'd let me in and tell me what's going on with you. Because I do care, but you make it so hard. Why can't you just be honest with me?"

He made a small frown. "I have been honest."

"And I'm the Queen of Asgard." Faith had been walking without direction, just to blow off steam. She got to a lakefront park and stared out over the endless water.

After a while, Loki ventured, "Perhaps I am trying to protect you."

"Oh, please. I can take care of myself, in case you didn't notice."

He sighed. "I cannot burden you with my concerns. A warrior would never so trouble a lady."

"Who taught you that? Your family?" Faith's face held frustration and bitterness. "Most guys are like that here, too, always keeping it bottled up, acting tough, trying to keep the little girl safe, never giving her credit for having a brain or the guts to do what has to be done. It's stupid." Her voice got quieter. "I thought you were different."

"I am," he asserted.

She threw her hands up. She had nothing more to say.

He turned to leave. She said, "You going?"

"You are angry with me."

"That's no reason to leave."

"I thought perhaps..."

"You noticed they followed us."

He said reluctantly, "Yes," his eyes shifty as he surveyed the ground.

"And you thought I didn't?"

"I did not want to burden you..."

"Fine. Whatever."

He wordlessly turned to leave, still eying the ground.

She followed his gaze. "If you're going to mess with them... don't get hurt."

"You are the one who angers them."

She looked up at him. "Then let's stick together and take care of each other."

His face held an expression of small hurt. "Even if you are dissatisfied with me?"

"I'm not dissatisfied. I just... want more. I want more with you."

He gazed over her head at the lake, a faraway expression in his eyes. He looked profoundly sad. "You know that I care for you, Lady Faith, though you say I know not the meaning of the word." She wanted to object, but he continued, "I cannot promise the future, or even the present, so near the future in mortal time that one turn would find us in a different spot."

"I'm not afraid of that."

He still looked melancholy. "You are a foolish mortal." He kissed the top of her head and reached to pull her into his embrace.

They lost the tail in rush hour foot traffic. She went back to the bus while he kept watch down the street. She grabbed their clothes, their camping gear, and a few other things. She grabbed the bike key and was ready to leave when Loki came into the bus.

"Hey," she greeted him. "Thought you were gonna stay outside."

He didn't answer her, but instead pulled a knife she hadn't seen before out of his belt.

"Great lookin' knife," she joked. He started towards her. "Loki, are you OK?" She backed up. There was no place to go and no weapons close to hand. Part of her wanted to reach out to him, anyway. Maybe he'd finally cracked.

Then she heard Loki's voice from the bus door. "Don't go near her!" It was another Loki, one with an enraged, determined look in his face. 

The Loki with the knife began to dissolve into a brown mass, a shadow. Loki threw his knives at what remained solid. He hit something. The brown mass on the floor reformed into a demon, its shape shifting in agony. Loki stepped up to it and twisted a knife in what looked like the creature's chest.

"Who sent you here?"

The demon cried out and began babbling in a slurred tongue.

Another twist, another question. "Are there others?"

Loki permitted more anguished, gurgling speech, then twisted the knife a final time. The creature fell still.

Loki rose and swirled to face her. He was practically spitting out rage. "Would you have walked right into the arms of that thing, to let it slaughter you, without even taking up a weapon?"

"I thought it was you."

"It looked nothing like me."

"It did to me."

"And you would let me attack you with a knife?"

"I didn't know what to think. You've been acting strange lately."

"You could not tell a murderous, base creature from me?" He seemed incredulous. He snatched the bags and stormed out to the bike. He sat at the front, determined to drive it. She reluctantly handed him the keys and sat at the back.

He got off the bike abruptly and went into the bus. After a few seconds, she saw flames dancing through the bus windows. She was alarmed until he strode out, closing and locking the door behind him. He was carrying the computer.

"Better let me drive, Loki," she said.

"No," he replied in a cold, matter-of-fact way. "I no longer trust your judgment."

He sat, ran the key chain through his fingers for a few seconds, then inserted the key and started the engine. The bike roared into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot more work revising these chapters than I anticipated.


	14. Schmuck with a Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith and Loki locate Spike.

They were half-way to Cleveland when they decided the bike was slowing them down. They still had lots of money. Loki wanted to buy something they could live in, but Faith said a car would be easier to find. At least he listened to her about that. 

He was convinced demons controlled the new and used car markets. Faith found a lot where owners sold their own cars. They bought a huge 1970 Mercury that got appalling gas mileage, but had an engine Faith understood. The owner had taken care of the car. It ate up the road in the test drive. It also fit Loki's large size, but he probably appreciated the deep green color more. The interior had black leather seats, gold-tan accents and fake wood trim.

They got a trailer for the bike and set off. Faith felt she was finally traveling in style.

Loki only talked to her when he had to. When he spoke, he was formal and brief. The only thing he told her about the shadow demon was that it was hired to bring Faith's head to Las Vegas. Loki wasn't a target. Faith figured they couldn't kill him, anyway. They just wanted to show him they could get to him.

Loki cooled even more towards her after the shadow demon. She thought it was because she didn't know the demon wasn't him. She told him she would have known if the demon talked. He made a sarcastic comment about needing to babble continuously when in her presence. She said they could develop a recognition phrase. He told her he doubted they would ever use it. He intended to leave Midgard as soon as his business was done.

Loki spent most of his time hunched in the backseat of the car, staring out the window. At times, he studied the computer. He said it contained information on existing demons and their weaknesses. She got a glimpse of one record. It wasn't like a Watcher file that could have come out of an encyclopedia. The file she saw had descriptions and pictures of a tentacled demon exercising its power over a smaller demon, all graphically detailed. It made her feel ill. She had no idea what Loki thought of it. She wondered if the files contributed to his withdrawal. She wished he'd left the computer in the bus when he set it on fire.

Knowing more about demons did not make him like them. Once, he closed the computer with a loud click and repeated what he'd said some other time. "Humans are a blight on the Tree of Life, but your demons are worse, parasites living off the human plague, taking on its aspect. Even gods who remain in this realm but one day become infected with the disease of human sentiment. What is the protection against this blight? It isn't as simple as the barrier your innkeeper offered. Humanity is a pernicious disease that can only be eradicated through strict isolation or imposition of controls from above."

"Thanks for sharing." She was sorry she said it as soon as the words left her mouth. She wanted him to talk, not close himself off. "Ah, guess that applies to me?"

He replied coldly, "A mortal may no more matter to me than a gnat buzzing in a cave. Though it may bite and raise a mark, that blemish will not remain long. A minor irritation cannot deter me from my path."

She didn't answer.

Faith told herself that she should have expected it. Things always went wrong for her. If something seemed good, it probably wasn't. If something was good, it wouldn't last. She had an instinct for loneliness and alienation, for men who were bad for her. She had to stop fooling herself that it could ever be different.

They only stopped to eat at diners or get gas. Loki brought the computer into restaurants and searched the files or, if the place had wireless, looked for artifacts on the Internet. He still ordered everything she did. He only talked to her to give cursory information like directions. She was surrounded by people, but felt isolated.

She drove the freeways lost in these thoughts, barely paying attention to where they were going. Fortunately, getting to their destination wasn't too complicated, and it didn't take them long to get to New York City.

Faith went to Riverside Park and looked for a shed, but found nothing. A homeless woman said the city had been washed out. The woman knew of a man with blond hair, though. He used to give her his empty bottles. He disappeared after the waves came in.

Faith swallowed her pride, found a phone and called Buffy. She put on a lighthearted voice. She said she got tired of the desert and wanted to look up old friends. She didn't mention that she was traveling with someone. She could feel Loki watching her fake-casual conversation with riveted interest.

As usual, Buffy's life was way more complicated than Faith's. Goodness wasn't its own reward; it just invited in the major drama. Faith inherited the title of Real Slayer, but Buffy still carried the burden. Her problem sounded serious, but everything with Buffy was stupid serious. Girl never learned to relax, and she never opened up enough to let Faith help. All Faith could do was listen and thank her lucky stars she wasn't Buffy.

Late that afternoon, Faith and Loki pulled up to a chain link fence that fronted Sybil’s Cave in Hoboken. The stone wall where the cave began was near a small park, steps from the river. The area was deserted and overgrown with weeds. It was impossible to see the cave's mouth clearly. In the dwindling light, the entrance looked like it descended straight into darkness. The tall, padlocked, chain link fence and a larger, black iron fence fronted the entrance. The height of the fences wasn't a problem for Faith or Loki. They easily vaulted over them to land at the cave's unadorned entrance.

Spike was inside the cave, which wasn't deep. He was slouched on a box, holding a bottle of red wine in his lap. He looked like he was getting ready to go out for the evening.

"A wild Slayer approaches. Forgive the housekeeping. Weren't expecting gate-crashers," he remarked casually, as if people dropped into his home all the time.

"Don't worry about it," Faith replied. She went up to Spike and gave him a dubious look, which turned into a huge smile. She wasn't usually effusive, but last time she saw Spike, they parted as more-or-less friends. It felt good to see someone she knew after the deep freeze of Loki.

"Rockin' place," she offered.

"Rent's low. New York was bleeding me dry."

"Got a wicked view."

"Wonderland of Nature here: rats, stray cats, stray dogs, the whole pyramid."

"You must have had to kill to get this place."

"Keeping track?" He grimaced. "Nothing so exciting. I can keep an eye on my affairs here, and stay out of sight."

He handed the bottle to Faith, who downed a healthy swig. Spike took the bottle back and used it to indicate Loki, who was standing at the entrance to the cave, fists clenched, face thunderous, looking like he wanted to murder Spike.

Spike said in a playfully amused voice, "And what have we dragged in?"

Loki smiled in his knowing way and came into the cave with a swagger. The low ceiling spoiled the effect a little. He and Spike exchanged unimpressed once-overs. Spike took another long drink out of the bottle.

"Spike, this is..."

"Bit pouncy for you. Does have the aura of gloom and doom about him. Birds dig the gloomy doom."

"Does he ever say anything intelligent" Loki asked, "or is his every word unrefined inanity?"

Spike sniffed the air. "Not one of ours. Not one of yours." He smiled as if intrigued. "Not one I've met before."

"I am a god, you ignorant creature."

Spike slowly got to his feet. "A god, is it? You're coming up in the world, Faithee."

She felt she had to say, "We're here for business."

"Fair enough. Always up for a spot of business. Come on, then; let's have a go."

Spike flew through the air to attack Loki, who sidestepped the attack with ease. Spike's fists flew next, but he couldn't lay a hand on the quicker god. Finally, Loki hurled a knife, which buried itself in Spike's neck. Spike stood gaping in surprise as Loki kicked his stomach. Spike slumped against the cave wall.

"That all you got?" Spike gasped as he laughed. "Knives don't bother me."

Loki pulled a small package from his pocket, tore the paper off to reveal a toothpick, and threw it against the cave wall, completely burying its length in the stone. "I brought another. Shall I aim for your heart?"

Spike smiled and staggered, trying to rise from the wall. "Your god and I will get on famously. Help me up, mate."

Loki turned his back and walked to the far side of the cave.

Spike struggled up and removed the knife. He examined it briefly, then tossed it to Loki, who caught it in one hand, not even looking. It disappeared as if by magic.

"As the Slayer said, name's Spike. Yours?"

"Loki." The god turned, taking in the surroundings with distaste.

"Now there's a name filled with portent: End of the world, last call, lights out."

Loki smiled broadly. He seemed to stand twelve feet tall. "I am he, though the reports of the twilight of existence have proven... premature."

Spike gave him a hard look. "Not winning 'em all, I hear."

Loki brushed off the remark. "This phrase does not apply to one such as I."

"To Thor's brother."

Loki turned his head to the side with an abrupt scowl, then glared back to Spike, chin tilted up. "Your lack of hospitality would be considered an insult on Asgard."

"And you didn't bring the fire. That's a ruddy insult."

"Oh, I can give you fire, if flames are what you truly seek. Rather be glad you yet live after your paltry welcome," Loki looked around the cave and turned back to smile, 'if this miserable condition can indeed be called life."

"Met a god once. Bloody bint she was, not one to impress."

"I seek not to impress you."

"You're doing a bang-up job of it."

Loki smiled pleasantly. "Do take caution lest you raise my wrath. I am here for a purpose and I grow short of patience and time."

"And here was I, just about to hit the nightspots."

Loki glowered at him.

Faith jumped in. "It's OK. We got time. Is there a hotel around here? We've been on the road for a few days."

"Stay here, if it's not too _miserable_ for his Lordship. There's another room through the back. Used to be part of a secret passage."

Faith smiled, and said, "We probably need electricity."

"The room attaches to the house above, so it's got the amenities. There's a stream in the back. They say you can't drink the water. Not a problem for me. Loo's in the park."

"Thanks, Spike, but..."

Spike spoke with a leering tone, "Unless you'll be needing separate rooms?"

Loki turned abruptly and disappeared into the back room without saying another word.

Faith shrugged. "Guess we're staying here."

"Real charmer."

"It's been a tough trip."

Spike gave her a perceptive look. "In more ways than one, I'd wager."

"I don't want to talk about it now."

"I'm for a night out. What do you say?"

"Thanks, but I haven't been feeling too good," Faith said in a resigned voice. "Can I give you a lift? We have a car outside."

"Car? That's a wet dream on wheels."

"In that case, keep your hands where I can see them."

Faith and Spike left the cave, Spike catching her up on the people they both knew. Buffy's sitch was even worse than Buffy'd let on. Naturally, Buffy drove Spike away because nobody could share her burden, or he left because he was noble about being a monster, or whatever their scene was. Spike and Buffy liked to do the right thing and be miserable about it.

Faith dropped Spike at the PATH line, then drove around Hoboken, looking for a drugstore and something to eat, in that order. She had been feeling unusually queasy. Still, she got Chinese takeout for two and brought it back to the cave. Loki had the computer plugged in. He ignored her, and the food.

She left the takeout and walked to the riverfront. She sat on a rock, watching the New York City skyline in the dark, reflecting on her life the way she used to when she was in jail.

Around midnight, Spike came strolling along the river. He hailed Faith. She followed him to the cave entrance. The room in the back was dark. Spike produced a bottle of whiskey and sat, leaning against the stone wall. He opened the bottle and took a swallow. Faith sat next to him.

"You got more of that?"

"I was going to share," he admonished, passing her the bottle.

She didn't drink it, though. She just put the bottle on her lap and asked, "This what you're doing with your life now?"

"Things are slow at present."

"I had slow. Then I got fast."

"You and pretty boy?"

"You could say we're just friends."

"Let him hear you say that. 'Just friends' - stake to the heart of any red-blooded man."

"I'm not sure he'd care."

"If he doesn't care, why does he hate me so much?"

"'Cause you're a jerk?"

He stretched and smiled. "You've been talking to Buffy."

"Just to get your address."

"How is our Slayer?"

"Who, me or Buffy? We're not interchangeable." Faith made a small frown, "I guess we're living normal lives."

"Normal as in traveling with a god and stopping by a vampire's den."

"Normal as in, you know, meeting a guy, falling in love, and, um ... things." She added in a lower voice, "Getting knocked up."

To his credit, Spike didn't spit out his drink. Instead, he reached for her wrist to feel her pulse. She gave him a puzzled look. "Just checking," he assured her.

"You can tell if someone's pregnant by taking their pulse?"

"Old vampire trick. More than one pulse," he lied. "So... his?"

"Yeah. Stupid, huh?"

"I'm not the one to ask about brilliant ideas, pet." Spike took the bottle from her and took a long pull. He looked at the bottle and from his expression, decided not to pass it back to Faith. "A god's spawn. You read about these things. Mostly Greeks and Romans."

"It's crazy, isn't it? Slayers don't get pregnant."

"Not that I've heard."

"I mean, Robin's mom was the only one."

Spike fell silent at the mention of the man he'd orphaned. Eventually, he remarked, "Didn't work out for her."

"Not for him, either."

Spike swallowed some more liquor, a serious expression on his face. "Does the god in question know?"

Faith felt stupider by the moment. She mumbled, "He's not talking to me."

"Not like you to put up with that carry-on."

"What can I do, leave?"

Spike let out a prolonged, "Yes."

"I can't. I mean, not right now."

"If memory serves, he won't stay with you. The myths say he has more children than he can count, monsters some of them. He doesn't take responsibility for them, or for anything he does. Though, speaking frankly, I don't see how those stories can be true. He's only in his late teens."

"What? He's thousands of years old." Faith was only half-listening. Her thoughts had drifted onto her concerns for her future. It was all she'd been thinking about since she left the bathroom in the Chinese restaurant.

"Listen, just continue to look after number one," Spike advised.

"Champion survivor here. Been takin' care of myself for years."

Spike brought up the inevitable question. "Going to keep it?"

Faith looked at her hands, her thumbs rubbing her fingers. "I was picturing how I'm gonna go through with it. I know how screwed up I've been. My parents weren't great role models. They didn't win awards as best adjusted or most secure. They only got married 'cause she was carrying me. Big mistake.

"I'm worried that won't be different for me. Well, not the exact same. He keeps saying he's going back to Asgard. But look at me: no education, no skills except hand-to-hand and maybe waitressing. Zero experience with kids."

She sighed. "But I figure, I only got one shot at this, making a family. It's like being a Slayer, a once-in-a-lifetime deal, changes everything. I've been able to do what I want, so far. I'm a better person than I used to be. It probably doesn't seem like it, but I'm more responsible.

"I didn't look for this. I didn't think it could happen. But it's what I want."

Spike tipped the bottle. "You've decided."

"Yeah, I have."

"How long 'til the blessed event?"

She was embarrassed. "I lost track of time the past few months."

"Traveling in another dimension?"

"We were in the mountains."

Spike looked confused, then thoughtful. "There's a doctor I know..."

"What am I gonna say to a doctor?" Faith switched to an overly cheerful voice, "Hi, I'm a Slayer having a god's baby. Got any vitamins for that?" She hated how she sounded like Buffy.

Spike agreed, "Could be a bitch to explain."

After a few moments, she confessed, "I know having a kid isn't a good idea."

"Bein' a Slayer ain't a good idea. I know; killed two of them."

"I never kept score of the vamps I finished, but I'm up on the count. Got three the other night."

Spike let out a laugh. "That's the beauty of being a Slayer, the balance."

"Been thinking of quitting for a long time. Tried to. Maybe this will be the thing that gets me out. There's lots of Slayers in the world now. The timing seems good."

"And when a vampire attacks the block, are you going to say, 'have at it' and switch on the soaps?"

"Guess I'll have to."

The alcohol sloshed in the bottle. "If you're in the 'getting on with life' stage, why didn't you leave Avenal there behind the Red Door?"

Faith had an inkling of how Loki felt with her references to pop culture. She explained, "He hired me for a job, as a guide to the demon world. Job's not over."

"I see. I'm part of your demon tour."

"Trail led to you."

"All roads do." Spike stood up to stretch his legs. "Seems odd he's not talking to you."

"We met a demon that could shape shift. It took his shape and went after me with a knife. I stalled. It looked like him."

"But you killed it?"

"He did." Faith mumbled. "I think he saw me not recognizing it as a betrayal of some kind."

"You think he'd be chuffed you're still kicking."

"I think he just wants to move on, without me."

"Maybe it scared him, being the reason you were attacked... well, been there once or twice myself." Spike was silent for a few moments. "Can't remember you stickin' it out with anyone."

"I know how this is gonna sound, but I love him, Spike."

"Not usually the cause for apology, but in his case..."

"I've never been in love before. Thought I was above all that, tougher, more grown-up. I lived life at full throttle, never stopping to see what was around me. I was really just reacting, keeping my distance. But, hey, no problem. Love wasn't real, right?

"Then, I found out what it is to care about someone. It was so great to find that person who means everything, that you want to be with, to share things with."

"And he feels the same?"

"I thought he did, but lately... I've been so confused and unhappy. I don't know what I'm doing. Half of the time I want it to end; it's just too painful. The other half of the time, I never want it to end, even with the pain. Lately, I've been feeling so sick."

Spike just stared at her. Finally, he said, "Could be hormones, but it sounds like love. Don't recommend it. Just listen to yourself: straight from the pages of Tiger Beat, like a flippin' teenager."

"Maybe I am. It's all new for me." Faith continued, "He's pretty damned amazing when you get to know him. Really unique. He's not easy, though. He's changeable. One minute, he's happy, the next, sad."

"Of course he's changeable. He's the bleedin' God of Chaos. If the myths are true, he has powers beyond our mortal ken."

"Aside from speed and strength, I haven't seen any."

"Probably hiding them, playing one of his games."

"I can read most of his games."

"Can you? Hate to be the bearer, but he's down for the deaths of hundreds in New York."

"You mean the alien invasion? Yeah, heard that."

"Wasn't on the telly."

"These guys from a place called S.H.I.E.L.D. paid me a visit. Said he led the invasion."

"So you decided to help him."

"Their facts were all wrong about me, plus, you know, they're cops. Then I talked to him." Faith decided to skip the long story. "He might be up to something, but I don't think it's bad. He's on his own. I figured he should have a chance, and if it was trouble, well, I'd be there."

"Hundreds dead, Faith. He's not a good man."

"How many have you killed, Spike? How many did you torture first? How many did you hurt because you could? He's not like that."

"Demon, me. Not good by definition. Until I got this soul, I had no choice in who or why. He had a choice."

"I'm not sure he did. He only hurts those who attack him first. I can't blame him for that. Yes, he can go overboard, but so did I."

"Can't remember you trying to enslave an entire planet."

"No, but I bet you tried to... or at least tried to destroy it."

He retrieved the bottle and lifted it in the air. "Cheers."

She decided she should probably hear Spike's so-called facts. "So, what do you know about him?"

"He opened a portal to get the aliens here. It's not clear if he was giving orders after that, but he did fall in with a bad crowd. Don't think they had a bright future planned for us, even with him as ruler."

"I can't see him wanting to rule the Earth, unless he plans to turn it back into wilderness or something. He doesn't think much of humans. I just don't see it."

"You think you know him?"

"Yeah, I do. He doesn't tell me anything but I can read his expressions. I don't know if anyone else can. He changes them in the blink of an eye, but I'm quick. I see a lot. He acts like he's holding all the cards and the club belongs to him, but sometimes he's afraid and sometimes he's lonely. Lately, I've wanted to be there so he knows he doesn't have to go it alone. He is all the things he thinks he is. All the things he thinks he's pretending to be, I see in him."

"Right." Spike went up to Faith and looked directly into her eyes. "I can smell the crazy on him. I've been there. You met Dru."

"I met her when she got her mind back. She was still scary persuasive."

"You never saw her with a blow torch."

"You were in love with her."

"Correction: we loved each other." Spike looked at Faith so she would get the point, then looked away. "And crazy is exciting, especially when you're talking an eternity."

"I don't have an eternity. I shouldn't even be alive now. He's lived thousands of years already. He's been sane all that time."

Spike leaned against the wall and took out a cigarette. He glanced over at Faith, then put it in his pocket. "How much did your Disney prince tell you about himself?"

"Stories about growing up, mostly. Court life in Asgard. His travels."

Spike spoke in a soft voice. "Did he tell you he tried to kill himself, before his alien cock-up in New York?"

"What?" She was genuinely shocked. "Where did you hear that?"

"I keep my ear to the ground. You never know when you might encounter useful information. It's gossip, but from a reliable source, someone who had no reason to lie."

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I do dodgy jobs for one of them. Keep an eye on them. A bloke has to look after his interests. Don't fancy a new Initiative with global reach. They've been propositioning super-humans. Never know when the rare career opportunity will knock."

Eventually, Faith asked, "Do you know why?"

"They want fighters for the next alien threat. Turns out those Avengers are all pensioners."

"No, I mean... why did he try to kill himself?"

"Didn't care to ask, but I heard he made some blinkered decisions on his planet and it all went tits up. Stole daddy's car, smashed their super-highway. Family disowned him. So he did a headlong off a cliff.

"His kingdom had a feast when they thought he'd offed himself. Now they wish he'd done it proper. He reappeared, you see, with an artifact his lot didn't care about 'til he scarpered off with it. They think that when he jumped, he tricked them and went into another dimension. They think he went mental before he jumped, but went full-on raving after.

"When he was nicked in New York, the Asgardians tossed the nutter in chokey and walked away. Could have been worse. Wankers in his world aren't known for enlightened punishment.

"There's the official story, then there's this one I'm telling, more complicated, the way my contact sees it.

"And now he's here and he's our problem."

Faith got to her feet. "Been real."

"Bottle's still half empty."

"Lookin' on the bright side as always."

"Forget him, pet. You don't need the hurt."

"When do I ever get hurt?"

Spike looked at her suspiciously. "He doesn't hurt you, does he?"

She laughed. "No. Only when he doesn't trust me."

"You think you can trust him?"

"I love him, Spike."

"Word is, he's a murdering psychopath."

"Haven't seen that side of him; don't think it exists."

"You're fooling yourself, luv."

"You know, I tried to put Slaying aside and never could. I never had a reason. Then he came along. At first, he made me mad -- big-deal, royalty from another planet. But there's a passion in him, an innocence to him, a purity, the kind you don't see in most people. I can't help but care about him. From what you said, I can see he's been hurt. I saw it before, I just didn't know why. I want to see him happy."

She turned before going into the back room. "Don't tell S.H.I.E.L.D. we're here, OK?"

"Mum's the word."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still chipping away.


	15. A Cockfight in a Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Spike compare their accomplishments and get down to business.

She went to the back room, where Spike had a large mattress on the floor. Loki sat on it, his face lit by the screen of the computer. He didn't look at her. She could see the muscles in his face moving, his brow furrow and smooth, the sides of his mouth widen and narrow, like he was trying to get his expression under control. He made no sounds. His fingers hovered over the keys in tense suspension. His eyes stared at the screen, but didn't seem focused on anything.

"You heard?"

"Most of it, yes," he replied in a harsh whisper, as if his vocal chords had rusted in the small room. "Faith, I..."

"Loki, can I kiss you?"

He turned to look up at her, the growing smile on his lips contradicting the unshed tears balanced on the edges of his sad eyes. "Yes."

She sat next to him and put her lips against his. They met with a passionate response, desperate and hungry, as if he had been starving for her touch. She put her arms around him, and he laughed with wild relief. He moved over to give her room. She knelt next to him and pulled him close, holding him tightly.

He buried his face in her hair. "Is this love, Lady Faith?" He voice caught in his throat.

"Yes, Loki. It is."

She felt a cool tear drop on her neck. She turned and kissed the next one off his face.

He looked at her with excitement. "Are you sure? That I'm going to be a father?"

"Yeah. I got a test at the drugstore, but I've been late for a while."

She could feel the trembling thrill that ran through his body, the smile that lifted his face. She felt relief. She wondered how he'd take the news.

Then his voice became troubled and his hands nervous. "You are not angry with me?"

"No."

He said in a smoother tone, "I have not been kind to you of late. Know that I sought only to carry burdens I could not transfer to your shoulders." The words sounded practiced, but she really didn't care. At least he was talking to her. She wasn't going to attack him for it.

"You don't have to protect me. I'm strong. And you can trust me to be strong for you."

Anger colored his next whisper. "I trust you didn't believe the stories he related to you..." he started, hesitation in each word, like they were being forced out of him.

She knew some things were hard to talk about, and she didn't want to hear anything but the truth from him, so she said, "We don't have to talk about this now, if you don't want. I'm here whenever you need me. OK?"

He nodded. She kissed him again, and this time, she needed him not just to be there, but to fill her with his being. "I want you," she said in a whisper as rough as his had been. "Can we...?"

"Is it wise?" he asked, his eyes round.

"I'm not gonna break. I need to feel you next to me."

"I can give you this, at least," he said softly.

They slid down the bed. He started cautiously as if she _was_ going to break, but when she didn't, he let himself go. She was already far ahead of him by then.

Spike was out of the cave when Faith went to look for him, hours later. She hoped he'd left when she went in to Loki. She dashed out to the car and grabbed a gallon of water she had in the trunk.

It was midday, cold and bright. A chilly breeze blew off the river. She was only wearing Loki's shirt. Icy gusts nipped at her ankles.

She grabbed a blanket. Spike didn't use one. Loki didn't need one. She was alive and human, though, and freezing.

She ran back into the cave and dumped the water bottle and blanket on the thin mattress. Loki looked up at her with contentment in his eyes. She took off his shirt and got next to him, pulling the blanket on top of her. He opened the water and drank half its contents without stopping. She watched the passage of water along his slender neck.

"About what Spike said... I'm not going to ask you any questions," Faith said.

"It is your right," he answered, catching his breath.

"Maybe. I'm just happy you're here with me now."

He looked sheepish. "If I do not always share my plans and troubles with you, know this: I never want to see you hurt."

"Same here. But you know, it hurts when you shut me out. When you want to talk about things, I'll always listen and I'll always let you know what I think, but I'm not gonna judge you."

"As a murdering psychopath, so your vampire said?"

"Half the people I know have been murdering psychopaths, including Spike, before he got a soul. He even killed his own mother, after he turned her into a vamp." She took his face between her hands and looked at him. "I don't believe you're crazy, or ever were."

"I wish I could dispute that. There have been times..." Loki fell into deep thought, his forehead creased, his lips tense. She took his hand and he looked at her, smiling as if coming out of a dream.

They stayed together the rest of the day in quiet, talking about small things like the change in the weather and growing up in the seasons. They fell asleep in each other's arms. They didn't discuss their future. She wanted to say she didn't expect him to change his plans, that she was ready to go it alone, but the words never left her mouth. When she thought about him leaving, it made her feel like the bottom was falling out of her world. That made her mad, because she didn't want to depend on anyone, and she wasn't certain she could depend on him. And yet, she wanted to be with him. Love was hard to figure out.

She was also already starting to show, which irked her. It seemed too soon, but what did she know? She couldn't imagine wearing maternity clothes.

Loki seemed happy, though.

Still tired from driving and the outpouring of emotion, Faith started to doze off after sunset. She was aware of Loki rising and getting dressed. She heard his footsteps going to the outer cave.

She must have fallen asleep. She had a weird dream about two men facing each other over a wide river.

"I'm pleased you have returned. I would conduct some business with you."

"You still hangin' about? Hoped she'd given you the shove by now. Don't stay on my account."

"Do not trouble yourself that you matter to me in any way. I stay on my own account, and I stay for my lady. It would be impossible for you to remove me by force. Information might produce better results."

"You're a bloody blight on the Universe."

Something metallic hit a wall.

"You'll have to try harder than that."

"Figure I can ignore you ‘til you hop it. Have the solution right here."

"Alcohol, of course. Spirits seem to constitute your entire diet. Is blood too rich for you?"

"Some things I can't swallow – taking advantage of a gullible girl for selfish purpose, for one."

"You cannot mean Faith. She is far from gullible. I must conclude you refer to yourself."

"Bein' female is more your métier. Done lots of things in my life, but I've never been used like a woman."

"I'm sure you have been and didn’t know the difference. I conduct myself openly and with honor, without the goal of oblivion."

"You sought oblivion once, or so I heard from the lady who gave me this vodka. She and I spent the day together. Learned a lot about you."

"If this is who I suspect, your day was restricted to lurking outside her door and nothing more. This same lady to my chamber came unbidden. I did not have to break an oath to a friend to dally with her. Had you no easy information, the lady would not have trifled with you. What other use would a woman have for you?"

"Doubt you had bugger all to give 'er. Tell me Faith's not the only bird you've had. Me, I've have had a harem of beauties at my beck and none would complain it was only words. What can a poseur like you tell me about sexual prowess?"

"You inflate into a harem the handful of women who slept with you, who chose you to prove how much they hated themselves, or to injure a willing victim. I've had women throwing themselves at my feet since I was a boy. They were beneath me. I have now found a woman of substance. What can you, whose lovers went insane ere they sought your bed, tell me of seduction?"

"If girls threw themselves at your feet, they were probably spewing up their pudding. I've known the love of a mature Slayer. What we have is profound and deep. Even when we hurt each other, we cut to the core. We're not two teens, pulling at flowers and each other. What can you, who could cut a bird's hair to spite her time with your brother, tell me about fidelity?"

"You speak of a child's acts as if they were a man's,” was the mumbled response, followed by a louder challenge. “If your Slayer is dedicated to you, then why do you abide alone? I have kept my lady by my side from the day we departed the desert. We may not have enjoyed years of your coveted torment, but as she told you, I am the first she has loved. What can you, who would slavishly run when your woman beckons, only to obligingly leave when she tires of you, tell me of love?"

"You might travel with a guide now, but you stand for no-one but yourself. I may be a fool for love, but I've always been a man first. I'm the toughest and most loyal bloke you'll meet. You strut and preen in me drum, and go on about loyalty. Myths and the word on the street say you're fickle and irresponsible. What can you, who would rather be a woman than shag one, tell me about relationships?"

"Does it soothe your empty mind to repeat ancient slander? I have lived thousands of years and have gained vast knowledge. I know that to please a woman, it is best to know them without fear. I am told you sought a soul in a desperate bid to appeal to a woman, yet she never sought such tribute. What can you, who have never sired a child, tell me of satisfying a woman?"

"Millions of gits plant their seed and get a girl up the pole. I actually planted and kept a soul. I know the full cost and joy of bein’ human. I know that I'm worth something. What can you, who are responsible for the deaths of hundreds, all weaker than you, all killed to satisfy your duff ego, tell me about virtue?"

"Do continue to fool yourself that you were not a mere murderer of women and children, none of whom did you ill. I have pursued my goals for a superior purpose, to secure the good. I ruled Asgard as its King and would have raised this realm to equal glory. What can you, a self-indulgent swine who seeks only to wallow in your sloppy sty, tell me of power?"

"Go on, then, pretend you were a king and not a popinjay. I was the Lord of Beverly Hills. I ruled a population of thirty-four thousand humans and an equal number of non-humans when the world had gone to Hell. I defeated their enemies and brought them peace. What can you, who relies on alien mercenaries to fight for your airy-fairy claims, tell me about ruling?"

"You say you were a valiant general, yet you left the battle to more qualified underlings. I saved Asgard single-handedly. I brought their worst enemies to heel and did this alone, without aid of an army. What can you, who never devises a plan and always follows others, tell me of heroism?"

"You were alone because no army would trust you. I've saved things on my own. Sacrificed my life to defeat the First Evil and thousands of demons in Sunnydale. My death saved this world and all in it. The crater left by the explosion is still there today. What can you, who bollixed up every one of his half-arsed schemes, tell me about saving worlds?"

"If you died to save this world, how now do you stand before me, pathetically alive? I suspect that any merit to your deeds came from another's magic, which you stumbled upon, not aware of what it was until it was too late. I saved my world using magic I have commanded from my earliest days. What can you, who have done no more than pick off humans for your meals, a deed so facile that ballads will never be written about it, tell me of ingenuity?"

"You may have played at magic with yourself and your old man's wand. I traveled in demon dimensions helping the strongest witches on Earth. I traveled in Earth's orbit on an alien ship and commanded the crew. What can you, who dropped into a space hole when your plans went all to cock, tell me about exploration?"

"I salute your mastery at hiding in dark spaces and facing animals, with the help of others. I have traveled the realms since early childhood, on my own. I needed no craft to make a voyage. I sped along the branches of Yggdrasil, or flew with the wings of the hawk. I have seen the brightest heights and the darkest depths of existence. What can you, who possess the senses of an earthbound troll groveling in a cave, tell me of adventure?"

"Playing at magical hide-and-seek, was it? I've lived life to the fullest on this planet, in every corner of it. I battled Dracula and other ancient evils, and I did it with style. I had comrades, people logic said would never have fought with me. I'm a uniter, me, and a friend to the best. What can you, a boy off his head, alone in a dark corner, tell me about battle?"

"Dracula... is this another common vampire such as yourself? I lately fought the assembled forces that would destroy Asgard. I fought to protect my kingdom and my family from the hazards invited by Thor, who smashed our super-highway, as you styled it. I alone held the capacity to understand our enemies and defeat them. For this, I was raised again to Asgard's regard, yet denied my rightful recompense, even after grave injuries. What can you, who has profited from every foul wind to blow across your path, tell me of pain?"

"You can toss off to your imagined victories in Asgard, but you couldn’t defeat one green man on Earth. I endured torture to protect the sister of the woman I love. I was rendered nearly senseless, but I held my tongue. What can you, who was so spoiled as a prince he thinks of no-one but himself, tell me about endurance?"

"I seek not the admiration of one woman to give me strength. I withstood the torture of one who annihilates universes so he may show his devotion to his awful lady. I endured loss of identity, my being imbued with purest despair then remade in fire. None of that was done for a woman, but for the purpose I serve. What can you, who ties his every move to a female skirt, tell me of manliness?"

"Big man, slagging off women to make yourself look better – or are you trying to prove you’re a man? I've fought by the side of the bravest women to ever exist. It has been a privilege to know them and I am better for it. I’ve heard what your schemes cost the women of Asgard, especially your mother. What can you, who is a coward when it comes to affairs of the heart, tell me about devotion?"

Loki paused for the first time. "You speak of mothers," emotion edging into his voice. "Think well before you call me a coward. Know that any ill that befell the woman who raised me was not of my doing. Know that I fought to honor her as I did for my realm. I did not turn this mother into a monster, as you did yours. Unlike you, I did not kill her when her lies about loving me were revealed."

Then they fell silent. Faith thought with exasperation, "I hope they aren't measuring cock sizes, 'cause that's the next logical step. Maybe they're comparing cheekbones." Faith realized she wouldn’t get any sleep after those thoughts.

After several minutes, she finally heard Spike mutter, "Guess you need this as much as me."

She heard liquid slosh in the bottle and knew if they hadn't come to a truce, they had at least ran out of insults.

"Bah," Loki spat. "This is atrocious."

"Best she had on hand. Where'd you meet her?"

"She sought answers about Asgard while I was but briefly detained in New York. These were questions Thor would not have entertained. I only answered one ere we were interrupted by someone wielding a gag."

"What'd she give you?"

She heard the smile in his voice. "The name of a Slayer."

"So that's why S.H.I.E.L.D. started a file on Faith."

"I understand the information they gathered was useless."

"That was me. My contact keeps them from mucking up my corner. She is loyal, but S.H.I.E.L.D. would only make the lives of the Slayers worse and she knows it."

There was another splash of liquid. Loki asked, "Where did you meet her?"

"Budapest, a long time ago." Spike made a stretching sound, probably getting his bottle back. After a splash, Spike asked, "How’d you get the 411 on me?"

"I came into possession of files kept by a demon named Raar."

Spike whistled. "No wonder they're after you."

Loki let out a huff of amusement. "You are mentioned in the files. Your weakness is a willingness to be, as they say, whipped by women."

"Prefer to see it as old-fashioned chivalry. Are you in those files?"

"Our kind were thought to be long vanished from Midgard. We attained the status of mythical gods – until the recent visits of that blunderer, Thor. Now that he's graced your realm with his exaggerated presence, everyone has become an expert on Norse mythology. Raar even attempted to create profiles of the gods, but his sources were incorrect when first written and were then corrupted by the ages. He noted me as an ardent admirer of horses. Pity I ended him before he could test that theory." There was a pause. "Are you going to remain stingy with your hospitality?" Faith heard the bottle pass. "I assume you violated your oath to Lady Faith and notified your acquaintance of our presence here."

"Only asked a few questions about you, what she'd heard since our last confab. Also did a little poking around the demon world. There's a price on your head. Still looking for 'his woman,' too."

"Not unexpected. What else did you learn?"

"What am I, MI5?"

Loki didn't answer.

Spike sighed. "Heard you're looking for something."

"But not what?"

"Demons are a territorial lot. New Jersey won't tell New York a thing that could cost them."

Loki began to pace. "Did you have to tell Lady Faith those ridiculous stories about me?"

"She should know you're not the man you pretend to be."

"To what end? To make her respect me less?"

"Didn't work. She's with you all the way. She respects you. Might even love you, poor girl. But you're the God of Lies, so I assume you haven't told her the truth."

"Am I the God of Lies? Why do humans believe tales written a thousand years ago? In those tales, I had red hair and several children born. None of that has happened."

"Yet."

That briefly stopped Loki's pacing. "I'm also Odin's brother in the myths, and nothing could be further from the truth."

"He's a god, and you're a giant in those tales."

Loki's all but growled, "Do I look like a monster to you?"

"Depends. Do I?"

A cheerfulness returned to Loki's voice. "Yes, you do."

Spike said, "Well, we all have a little monster in us on this planet. Even the angels."

"I've traveled through many universes and met many monsters. I have not found an angel."

"Overbearing and self-pitying, they are. But it looks to me like Faith has been an angel to you."

Loki's tone softened. "She has been my guide, and, perhaps, my friend. I don't expect her to stay with me after this quest has ended."

"Quest, is it? The Grail that grants eternal youth?"

"I've no use for it. We have prolonged youth on Asgard."

"I have it on Earth. There's a price, though. What's the price in your neck?"

"Centuries of boredom, of living with people remarkably like your angels, full of simple desires and simple answers and yet, wholly overwrought. Nothing changes. Nothing is as good as it should be."

"Still, better a prince than a pauper."

"A prince without a people," Loki replied in a bitter tone. His voice switched to polite and amused curiosity. "My lady told me that vampires live forever, but they are dead, and cursed."

"It's her dodge to make sure we don't exist forever. Am I your first vampire?"

Loki laughed. "No. I've been close to one before. Faith ended his story before we could get better acquainted." His boots circled the cave floor. He was probably examining Spike. "We have the undead, the Ehrjiner."

"Like to think if it wasn't for that bloody amulet, I'd've gone to Valhalla."

"The Valhalla you speak of is a fantasy that humans have created to forestall their fear of death. Ehrjiner do dwell in a place called Valhalla, but they were never men. They were engines contrived by Odin as the last defense of the gods. They are built to endure, ripping each other apart day after day until called to march for the Aesir. Such is Odin's whim and purpose. They are less like you and more like your robots, like the Chitauri who invaded your city."

"Bots can be damned useful, but you've gotta keep an eye on them."

"My lady says vampires are the embodiment of pure evil."

"Doubt she used the word, 'embodiment.'"

"She was more succinct. She has brought us here so that I might find something. She believes you might know how I can best do this."

"Know lots of things."

"I understand you had to fight to get your soul."

"Faith has been talking."

"What does it mean, to have a soul? It's not a concept we use."

"Means you can empathize with others and be aware of your place in the world, how you fit with others. It brings a connection to the Good, capital G. In my case, I want to fight for the innocent and the weak. Your kind don't have souls?"

Loki walked to the cave entrance. He all but whispered, “The Aesir would believe they have souls." His voice mused with polite interest, but behind that, there was an infusion of intense excitement and curiosity. "Even with a soul, you still kill."

"Demons. For the odd supper, I buy pig's blood from slaughterhouses. There's a trade in it."

"Run by demons." Loki sounded unimpressed with the information. "So, you would protect the innocent and the weak, but this does not apply to animals?"

"Don't have souls, do they?"

"You must find a domesticated animal in a slaughterhouse to be a great threat to you."

"We gonna start up again?” The liquid sloshed. “Hunger is the threat, though I could survive without eating. Wouldn't be much more than survival."

"This I understand," Loki murmured. Louder, he concluded, "Only humans have souls, then. I am not surprised, as it is their conceit. What advantage does having a soul confer?"

"Well, it helps you know your relationship to others. The downside is that it makes you think twice about killing others with souls -- not that you wouldn't, but you'd think on it."

"Those others being exclusively human. Well, you were human once." Loki stopped pacing. "Tell me how you obtained this soul."

"Nobody's ever asked me that! Showed up with a soul, and either people thought I was taking the piss, or they said, 'Right, what else you got?'"

Spike told a detailed story of traveling to Africa and meeting an ancient demon who put him through grueling trials of strength and endurance. When the old guy got bored or had run out of ideas, he fixed Spike up with a soul.

Faith had actually never heard the story before. It sounded like the usual stuff in her world, maybe a little more intense. She fought to stay awake through Spike's tale, even throwing the blanket off at one point so the cold would keep her up.

Loki listened with rapturous attention, not interrupting.

At the story's end, Spike said, "It was either the most naff thing I've ever done, or the best. Still haven't decided. Didn't get the girl, in the end."

"So you _did_ do this for love." Loki sounded astonished.

"She was special."

"Yes, a Slayer, or so I read." Loki stopped pacing. "Was it Faith?" His voice carried an ominous warning.

Spike choked on his vodka.

"Of course not. She has better taste." Loki's pacing resumed. "How would I go about requesting something of this demon?"

"Were you listening? It's not that easy. I wanted to throw it in several times. I battled demons, fire monsters."

"All Earth-bound creatures."

"Far as I know."

"And you wanted your soul more than the comfort of your cave. I have the strength and will of a god. I can survive these trials. I've faced far worse."

"What, questing in your pretty kingdom in the sky? Don't think that's worse."

"No." Loki's voice took on a haunted sound. "I fell to the darkest corners of the cosmos. I endured pain and fear you can't imagine." His voice regained its composure. He almost sounded blasé. "I survived it."

"You did say you'd been tortured, but I would have known it anyway from what Faith told me about the changes in your personality."

"If true, it matters not."

"No? I've been there, courtesy of a god, in fact. I've doled it out, too. It's part and parcel of a vampire's life. Long-term boredom, short-term thrill, the desire to show your victim you’re superior, especially if you're not sure of it yourself."

"I do not torture. It is dishonorable to so do."

"It's dishonorable to be a victim, too, right?"

Loki didn't answer.

"Or to talk about it, to admit it happened. I don't talk about what happened to me. Still revisit it from time to time, without warning."

Loki hesitated before asking in a bored voice, as if he didn't want to know, "How does one accommodate such injury?"

"I admit to myself what it was, not my fault, except that I was stupid enough to get caught in the first place. Like I said, I've been on both sides. Even thought I deserved it. But I had a friend. You have that, too. You have a girl who will listen to you and who is brave enough to not turn away."

Loki pushed this suggestion off with a light, "There is nothing I can say!"

"And that's the problem in a nut, innit?"

Loki was silent for a few seconds, then asked, "How did you secure your freedom?"

"I got away, Buffy and her gang rescued me, the god got bored: take your pick. Afterwards, Buffy showed me it was all worth it. She trusted me." Spike sounded humbled. "How'd you get away?"

"I had something they wanted more than my suffering or inevitable death."

"Do you have that something now?"

A pause, then, "I am very resourceful." Loki walked to the cave entrance again. "You will tell me how to find the demon with the power to confer souls."

"What are you going to do with a soul?"

Loki answered gaily, "I haven't decided yet."

"That won't convince him. Won't see just anybody. He only saw me because my request was off the beam."

"He'll see me."

"Pretty sure of yourself."

There was no response from Loki.

"What would I get out of it?"

"Money? I have promised Lady Faith one million dollars."

Spike erupted into laughter. "She believed that? Come on. I know who you are."

"If you know who I am, then you should know that I care not for your money, as it is no trouble for me to acquire it, one way or another. You should know I could easily have your life for the information, should I choose. I am making you a better offer."

"I'd take less than a million for the information."

Sly bargaining entered Loki's voice. "What do you think is fair?"

"Ten thousand dollars."

Loki chuckled. "But you'd settle for a quarter of that."

"Cash in hand."

"As I am in a generous mood, I will give you half of what you ask. My companion carries our funds."

"I'll also need travel expenses."

"Oh, but you're not coming with us."

"Thought I'd look after Faith's one million."

"She is more than capable of taking care of herself. And two is company... do not ask me to finish this phrase."

"Before I agree, why would you want a soul?"

"Why does this matter to you?"

"It's part of the 'no longer evil' bollocks I find myself in."

After a reluctant pause, Loki said, "Perhaps a soul would enable me to experience this closer connection to humans of which you speak."

Now it was Spike's turn to be silent.

Loki continued, "I will be a father some day, to a child with a human mother... and where is the harm in this?"

"If it's all the same to you, I'll wait and talk to Faith."

"Perhaps we can ask her now. She is listening to our conversation."

Faith came out of the back room wrapped in the blanket.

"First class stalking," she grumbled. "How'd you know I was awake?"

"I could hear the rhythm of your breathing," Loki answered with a smug smile.

Faith rolled her eyes and turned to Spike. "Loki's right. There's no room on the trip for you. Wasn't even sure I was going, to be honest, until Loki said I was."

Loki sounded flustered for the first time. "You do want to go with me, don't you?"

She smiled at him, "Of course."

Loki seemed to be at an emotional loose end then, not knowing what to do with his feelings. "Are you hungry, my lady? May I bring some food to you?"

"Gee, that would be great." She was genuinely surprised.

"Your vampire wishes to determine my suitability for our quest. I will absent myself so you may speak freely."

Loki got some money and the car keys, and drove off. Faith hoped he wouldn't wreck the car.

Spike started right in. "I should probably come along to watch him."

"You'd probably be the first one to get hurt. I don't think he likes you."

"Him and me? We're two of a kind: True rebels, living for chaos, undermining the establishment, wearing our hearts on our sleeves."

Faith choked back a laugh. "You can kill me now."

"It's not every day a vampire gets an invitation to kill a Slayer."

Faith asked, "Think you can take me?"

"That's my girl," Spike replied. "Wonder why he wants a soul."

"Yeah, it's funny he said that. Probably just putting you on. I thought we were looking for the Braid of Souls."

Spike's voice got very cold. "You knew that's what he was after?"

"Made him he tell me before I agreed to work for him."

"Do you know what the Braid of Souls is?"

"Not big on research. More of an action girl."

"Same here. Well, not a girl."

"Yeah, you protested too much already."

Spike didn't even attempt a snappy come-back. "The Braid of Souls is supposed to be the key to the power of the Slayers. Vampires have searched for it for centuries."

She wrinkled her brow. "Why would he want that?"

"Same reason he learned about Slayers and found you, I'd guess. Can't be good."

Faith frowned in thought. "I trust him."

"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself." Spike became serious. "He's a sociopath, Faith, charming and intelligent, but can't love. He can only lie and manipulate to get what he wants. Nothing is as important to him as his own gratification. As long as you are interesting or give him something he needs, he'll stick around. In the end, though, he'll use you and leave you. He cares about nobody but himself."

"You got that from a few minutes talking to him? You should post a sign on the road up above, 'Fortunes Told, $5.' Tell everyone they're doomed. You'll rake it in."

"It's what S.H.I.E.L.D. says."

"They couldn't even research their way out of your B.S."

"He lied about what he wanted, didn't he?"

"To you, and you haven’t been super-friendly to him or kept our location secret. I think he was just playing a game. He didn’t lie to me. Besides, he knew I was listening."

"Cop on, Faith!" Spike thought for a moment. "Make him swear an oath to tell you the truth. Breaking oaths is forbidden in the old myths."

"Yeah, he told me a story about that. Spike, it'll be all right. Just roll with me on this."

Spike threw his hands up and walked to a far wall. "I swear, you two are like teenagers who've fallen in love for the first time. His face lights up when you come in the room, then he sods off to sulk and prove he's cool. And you... you're mooning and worrying over him as if he's the only thing that matters. It's sickening, is what it is. I'll be glad when you're both out of my lair."

Spike slouched in a corner with his bottle, turning on a small television and shutting out the rest of the world.

Faith’s stomach rumbled. She got dressed and waited for Loki to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to recalibrate my headcanon and make some significant changes to what I originally wrote. Posting of the rest of the chapters will probably take as long as this one henceforth.


	16. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike is not satisfied.

Loki jumped the fence and strolled into the cave with something called shawarma. Faith's stomach lurched at the sight of it, but she'd been feeling queasy lately when she woke up. She managed to hold it together.

Spike gave Loki a snide look. Loki produced a tall bottle of clear liquid with a label that looked like it said "Uvula" and Poland, and had a drawing of a figure with horns. The bottle itself looked like a curved horn. Loki handed it to Spike without a word. He then asked Faith if she would join him outside for dinner under the stars. 

They settled on a bench in the nearby park. It was still early, but the night was cold and quiet.

Spike came over to them and handed the bottle back to Loki, unopened. "Fancy a bit of fresh air," he said, turning to leave.

Loki asked, "Would you be willing to give us directions to your demon in Africa before you go?"

Spike frowned and said, "Give it a rest."

"I am eager to begin the journey, before you can relate to S.H.I.E.L.D. all you have learned."

"All your lies, you mean?"

Loki smiled confidently. "Lady Faith knows the truth."

"Bollocks. Why does she have to tag along on this jaunt, anyway?"

"She does much more than tag along."

Faith interjected, "I'm his guide."

"You only know the States, luv, and maybe a spot or two in London."

"Demons are the same everywhere."

"Not this one." Spike worked his chin a few moments, then asked her, "What if I take the trip instead of you? You can handle yourself, but that's on city streets. This is something else."

Loki said calmly, "I will face the trials. What is there for her to fear?"

"The country. It's unstable. War on its borders, when the borders aren't washed out. Landmines -- explosives hidden in the ground. Bandits in the hills, thieves in the cities, all armed. No roads. Dirt poor people, some nomadic, some crowded together in camps. Miles of desert. No communications. No water. It's pitiable and unsafe."

Loki said in an unimpressed voice, "It sounds diverting. I'm sure we'll manage."

Spike turned to Faith, "As a woman, you would be the target for every kind of violence."

She assured him, "Not too worried about it."

"Killing humans no longer a bother, then?"

"I've dealt with gangs before, with no deaths. Besides, you made the trip when you couldn't kill."

Loki added, "I can also fight, and have fought opponents much stronger than those of Midgard. Where you survived, we will thrive."

"Supercilious bastard toff."

"Drop the name calling." Faith observed, "Loki isn't silly or a bastard."

"What I'm sayin' is that the exposure and the heat were Pitt, but the demon was worse. He's not the giving type. I got what I wanted, but it did eff all to make me happy. Buffy also had a rough go with him. Not sure what, but it stayed with her, rattled her. I don't want to see that happen to you, Faith."

"Do you believe Faith is not as strong or capable as Buffy?" Loki sounded as though he had a personal stake in Spike's answer.

"Look, mate, it's not my place to tell you this, but..."

"My lady carries my child. I know this. My belief in her is only increased by this knowledge."

Faith added, "I've got months to worry about giving birth. Some women work up 'til the day they go into labor. I'll be OK."

"You're dicky now, looking at grub as if it was a personal insult. Face reality, Faith."

"I've been keepin' it real. The sooner you tell us, the sooner I get the job done, the sooner I'm back in the States shopping for strollers."

Spike kicked at the dirt. He glared at Loki with a stubborn frown. "Why are you looking for the Braid of Souls?"

Loki smiled slightly as if he'd thought of a private joke. Faith figured he'd been expecting the question. 

"Will you trot off to S.H.I.E.L.D. with the information I give you? What if I told you it would save Lady Faith's life if you did not?"

"Who's threatening her life, then -- you?"

"Never I." Loki put his fingers to his lips in thought, then gave Spike same answer he had given others.

"Treasures are held in safekeeping in Asgard which, if obtained by those outside the kingdom, could lead to an end to peace in the realms."

Spike looked skeptical. "I'll just check that with my source, shall I?"

"Your source knows but little of this, only that an item S.H.I.E.L.D. attempted to hold had eventually to be returned to Asgard, and that this item was not uniquely held. Beyond that, Asgard does not share its secrets with outsiders."

"But you do."

"When necessary." Loki sighed and gestured around the space where he and Faith were sitting. "Please join us. It will be easier to discuss this if you are seated."

Spike slid to a crouch on the ground. Loki handed him the vodka, saying, "Something to keep your hands busy." Spike made a fake smile, opened it and took a pull. His eyes opened slightly. Faith knew it must have been decent vodka, not that she could ever tell. 

Loki continued, "Guarding these treasures has proven difficult of late. Asgard has come under attack. Odin has lost the strength to withstand his ancient enemies. Thor has multiple distractions on his mind, and he is only one person, rash and unseasoned. Yet, if one of the treasures fell into the wrong hands, not only Asgard but our entire universe would be imperiled."

Spike looked less disbelieving.

"I will be honest." Spike let out a laugh. Loki's eyes narrowed, but otherwise he ignored it. "Bringing the Braid of Souls to Asgard would accomplish several things. It is an object of power on its own, and as such, it would move me towards Odin's good grace. As you are aware, I have temporarily fallen out of favor in Asgard."

"I heard you jumped."

Faith tensed up, but Loki only eked out a thin smile. "Perhaps I was pushed."

"That's easier to believe."

"Beyond showing me worthy of the King's regard, it is my hope that the Braid can be studied by Asgard's best minds, perhaps to unlock its secrets and create for the imperiled realm champions like the Slayers on Midgard."

Faith noted, "You know it's only girls, and from what I was told, we had to be possessed by a demon. We're not actually part-demon, though. It's like a suitcase filled with radiation. We become radioactive, but we're still a suitcase." It occurred to Faith that her example probably wasn't the best, but she'd never really thought about it before.

"I have no objection to a female champion," Loki assured her, "and whether or not you are possessed by a demon remains to be discovered. It seems more probable that Slayers are affected by a spell. There may be other forces at work that the scholars of Asgard could discern, indeed, that I could study, being more qualified than most in my realm."

"A spell awakened the power of the Potentials, so that makes sense," Faith mused. "Buffy was pretty sure it was a demon."

Spike interrupted, "You two hens can gabble all night, but I've got places to go."

Loki returned to his explanation. "There is one final consideration. Asgard would protect the Braid from destruction by hostile entities on Midgard. I can assure you that there are no vampires or demons of any kind in my realm."

"Thought you said the whole universe was in peril," Spike said, "starting with Asgard. How's your joint gonna protect anything while it's being attacked?"

"Hence the need to get the Braid quickly to Asgard, there to be studied and put to use. Do you really believe it safer on this planet, which has but barely survived recent challenges from beyond your solar system?"

"Challenges you bloody dragged here."

"Not true. Thor visited a Midgard year earlier than my storied arrival, thus triggering subsequent invasions."

Faith thought about what Loki was saying. It could have been the truth, but she wasn't sure. When he first told her about the Braid, she was sure he was lying, but he repeated his story so many times, she had begun to accept it. Now the story fit together too neatly.

She looked at Spike. He seemed to be buying it. In fact, the more Loki spoke, the more details Loki filled in, the more at ease Spike was.

She noted, "You're not doing this for humans, are you?"

Loki gave her a small grin, as if to say "good girl." It made Faith a little angry. "Your world will benefit, but I'd be lying if I said the welfare of humans was my primary concern. I am doing this for Asgard, which has protected the realms for time immemorial."

Faith must have seemed skeptical, because he added, "I also do this for myself. I some day will re-ascend the throne of my world, as its current ruler is unwell and its would-be ruler is unfit. By bringing this defense to Asgard, I prove again my value to my people."

Spike spat out, "As far as I'm concerned, you can have the Braid. It's better off on another planet, especially as you've got all sorts of demon rubbish after it again." Spike put the bottle aside and looked directly at Loki. He asked, "Still doesn't tell me why you need Faith."

"She has been an excellent guide up until now. I am sure she will continue the same."

"Have me instead. I've been there, and I won't cost as much."

Loki smiled gaily and remarked, "Your offer is disarmingly generous, but you do not possess what I need."

"What does she have that I haven't got?"

Loki looked at Faith with almost sheepish apology. "I am a stranger on your planet, and would not know if demons deal me false or true. I hoped that my lady, as a Slayer, would have an affinity for the Braid and would thus enable me to determine if I had found the actual object or if I had been given a replica, a fake, as you would say."

Faith felt a wave of nausea overtake her. He'd lied to her -- not outright, but by not telling her the whole story, that he wanted to use her as a human Geiger counter or something. Maybe she'd been fooling herself that she was any good as a guide, if he wanted her for something else all along. He wouldn't have found any demons without her, but once he met them, he didn't need her help to deal with them. For a while, she thought he was using her as a lure or a distraction, but then he went full-blown nuts when she really was a target. He did care about her.

Or maybe she was hormonal, like Spike suggested. She's been feeling more emotions than usual. It really bugged her.

Loki seemed to notice her discomfort. He explained, "My failure to tell you this is but a small thing. When I first revealed my request, you offered me no question, so I offered no elaboration. I thought you didn't believe my purpose in the first place."

"No, I didn't. It sounded totally bogus, this uniting the worlds in peace. It still does." Faith had thought she would figure out what he was up to as they went along. Instead, she started to trust him and stopped worrying about it.

"What do you think now?" Spike asked.

She thought she was done with mistrusting others. It must have been so deep, she couldn't help it.

She looked at Loki. He was acting cool, but she could see the tension under that, the pretending nobody's opinion mattered but his own. She thought of his family disowning him, like Spike said. She thought of him giving up on others, giving up on everything. She couldn't let him do that with her.

"I trust him," she told Spike in a steady voice.

"And what about me with him instead of you?"

"Wouldn't work, and you know it. I'm in this 'til the job gets done."

He stared daggers at her, but said, "Fair enough."

Loki relaxed and puffed up as if he was pleased with himself. Spike had the bottle up-ended so he didn't see, but Faith didn't think he would have noticed, anyway.

Spike put down the bottle and told them the detailed route he had taken to the ancient demon's cave. Faith wasn't writing any of it down. She was sure Loki would remember.

When he finished, Loki asked, "Would you like payment now?"

This was one thing that didn't surprise Faith. She retrieved the money and gave it to Spike. He pocketed $5,000 and got up to leave.

Loki said slowly, "If you are going to your friend with information on my quest, consider this: they have stayed away from your territory because your world is something you are best equipped to handle and seems not to affect theirs. Information on what I seek and from whom I seek it may change their perspective. Life would become much more complicated for you and for Faith. Imagine S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance round-the-clock, perhaps even indefinite detention and questioning. I can assure you this would endanger Faith."

"I get it. Don't cross the streams." Spike grimaced. "Wasn't gonna sell out my friend, was I?"

Loki watched Spike leave with a cold expression.

Faith dumped the remains of their dinner in a trashcan. They set off for a walk along the river, but ended up going towards the town. Loki was using his "I own this world" gait, where his whole body moved fluidly and still managed to look like a mountain coming at you. Faith had a little trouble keeping up with him.

Loki fumed, "I did not want to tell him of the Braid. He will sell the information to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"He won't. But so what if he did? They can't do anything. We're not breaking any laws or hurting anyone."

"They do not follow your laws. They make their own rules and their own excuses, as does any government spying operation. We have been under continuous observation since we left Chicago, perhaps before then."

"Got that feeling, but I'm still not worried." A troubling doubt rose in her mind. "Is S.H.I.E.L.D. why you lied to Spike, not telling him about the Braid, letting him think you wanted a soul?"

"Are you sure it was a lie?" He looked at her with curiosity. "I still have no firm concept of what a soul is, but it is no secret that I am estranged from my home. If a soul will make me more worthy to wield the power of Asgard, then I should like to explore the possibility. As well, if a soul makes me more pleasing to you, I would know more."

Faith laughed lightly. "You're plenty pleasing to me, and worthy. And I'm sure you have a soul. I can sense it." She hesitated slightly, her stomach twisting again, before asking, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to use me as a bloodhound for the Braid?"

He gave her a look full of grave consideration. "I would not have deceived you. As I said earlier, you did not ask. At the time, not knowing you well, I felt no need to say more. And then, as our quest progressed, the reasons fell out of my thoughts."

Faith knew nothing ever slipped his mind, but she figured that was all she was going to get out of him. He was right, anyway; she didn't ask for more information. She had always been a "play it by ear" kind of person.

Loki changed the subject. "Why do we always find your demons in caves?"

"Demons come from hell dimensions. Caves probably make them feel close to home."

Loki frowned. "I'll be glad to return to a land where the air is pure and the stars shine day and night."

Faith said, "I'd like to return to the mountain we were on. Maybe get a cabin, stay there for the rest of our lives. Or, I guess, my life."

He looked down at her, and said in a frank tone, "My destiny does not rest on this planet, even as its ruler."

For the second time that night, Faith was taken aback. "You really wanted to rule the Earth?"

"No, but when I had to commit to the idea, I realized it wouldn't be the worst possibility. I would have brought peace to the humans, something so difficult for them to obtain on their own. Look at your centuries of warfare and misery. I would have ended all that, and lifted humans to a higher existence."

"Like hell."

Loki seemed puzzled. "I see no similarity."

"Just sayin', conflict is part of human nature. Resisting is as much a part of life as giving in. What is it the Buddhists call it: longing and suffering? It wouldn't be easy for one man to rule the Earth. I don't know how you planned to do it."

"I had no plan. I expected people to acquiesce. At one time, humans worshiped those of Asgard, recognizing us as their betters. They modeled their societies, however poorly, after ours. They strove to make us proud of them, or scurried to escape our notice. Humans had a talent for mimicry and the instinct to survive, but little else.

"Then we gods departed from this tiny world to bring a more glorious war to our enemies. Humans developed on their own, in ways we could not have predicted, in perversion of the perfect visions we imparted. In ignorance, I believed humans would want to strive towards the perfection that Asgard represents, but needed someone to lead them."

He dipped his head and turned his lips up slightly. "I admit that since I have been with you, my views have changed. I no longer see Asgard as the realm eternal, model of bravery and beauty. I see it as the home of stagnation and lies. It is still my home, but it has nothing to offer this realm, not even protection, as one in particular so believes with characteristic paternalism. He fails to protect even Asgard, and cannot do so on his own. Meanwhile, Midgard has seen to its own defense.

"Thor claims to love those of Midgard, but in truth, his love is condescension, as one loves a naive child, as he in fact claimed to love me. I, at least and lately, recognize the human capacity for creation and destruction, and would not treat humans as defective or helpless children."

Loki was getting worked up. Faith put her hand in his and leaned in to walk close to him. His focus shifted to her and he calmed down, looking at her as if he had just noticed her there. He smiled as if his heart was full of peace.

"I must bore you with these tales."

"You are never boring."

Faith saw a club along the street, music spilling out of its doors. She practically jumped up and down.

"Maxwell's! I've always wanted to go there."

To her surprise, Loki agreed. They watched the latest version of The Fall, or rather, Loki watched Faith as she watched the band. Mark E. Smith was standing stolid on the stage, expounding in a voice slurred and roughened by alcohol abuse. He reminded her of a would-be dictator lecturing to a captive audience, but the people in the club wanted to be there and gazed up at him with faces full of awe. She wondered what Loki made of it.

At least the band Smith put together rocked. Faith started dancing and even got Loki to join her for a few steps. He moved like a dancer all the time, so he was good at interpreting the music, if a little uncomfortable in letting loose among mortals so far beneath him. He watched her carefully to gauge her reaction to his dancing. She gave him a big grin. He smiled and laughed, and Faith was happy to see it, but he stopped dancing almost right away.

Faith noticed Spike slink in at the entrance and look around furtively. When he saw them, his eyebrows went up and the sneer went on. He slid over to them, a wine bottle in his hand.

"Revels of the gods?" He offered the bottle to Loki, who looked at it with disdain.

"I prefer rum and Coke."

"Bar's that way," Spike indicated. Loki decided to leave for the bar, carrying himself proudly despite his probable trepidation at having to navigate yet another mortal situation. Spike commented, "Rum and Coke and Rico Suave? Bit Nancy for you, Faith."

"He likes sweets. High metabolism, like me." She could see Loki, heads taller than anyone else in the room, giving his order in an imperial manner to a harried bartender.

"Turned himself into a mare once, you know. He was a milkmaid for eight years."

Faith scrunched up her eyebrows. "What's in that bottle?"

"It's always me who's wrong, innit?"

"You said it."

Loki came back with two glasses in his hands. Spike took one. "She can't drink. Might affect the unborn, ah, god."

"Mothers are allowed to celebrate in Asgard."

"And how many fetal alcohol syndrome babies result from that? You know, lagging behind in growth compared to other children, especially mental growth?"

Loki frowned, "If what you say it true, then Asgard is a paean to this syndrome."

Faith interjected, "I don't need to drink."

Spike asked spitefully, "How many women do you gods impregnate in any given year?"

"I do not like the insinuation of irresponsible behavior you make," Loki warned, before stating in a bored tone, "We haven't visited here in centuries, but even when we did, the gods did not mate with humans, as carrying a god's child would kill most mortals. Thor ignored this truth, of course." Loki looked affectionately at Faith. "I had not planned... but I believe Lady Faith has the strength to bear my child. And I will be able to assist her." The lines of care fell away from his face when he said the words, "my child." He looked amazed and deeply happy.

They spent another hour at Maxwell's. When the show ended, they walked back to the cave. Improbably, Spike and Loki tolerated each other.

Spike mentioned Loki's mythological past. Loki reminded him that these were human tales either made up by mortals trying to understand the gods or told to them by the gods and shaped by retelling all out of proportion to the original tales. Loki also said there were gods who sought to make a joke of his name, especially to make others seem nobler by comparison. As Loki did not enter into combat with everyone who sullied his reputation, but rather sought more creative ways to reclaim it, the stories remained in human myth long after the gods had departed. He asked Spike what tales his enemies would tell if they sought to make him seem foolish or evil, perhaps out of jealousy for his friendships or fear of his powers or position.

"I take your point. Still and all, sully my name and I come out hard."

"But consider: have you ever had a rival whose every action is celebrated while yours is denounced? One who others seek to promote as a leader, while they seek to relegate you to oblivion, at best?"

"Might have," Spike reluctantly agreed.

"Your politicians do it all the time. Recently, one said the other was not from this region and was, indeed, against the ways of this region."

"Must be some truth to the myths, though. You exist."

"Consider the myth that Odin created the world from the body of his giant father, who he was said to have killed, along with his brothers. It is a frankly laughable story. Yet it must have provided some comfort to humans confronted by a powerful, demanding, and crafty god. Either that, or Odin and his supporters spread the stories, which is not inconceivable."

Loki and Faith stayed two more days. Spike was out of the cave most of the time. Faith thought they needed to get a forged passport for Loki.

"Can't whip one up himself?"

Loki stated, "It would be simpler to pay a skilled craftsman."

"Can't you mind-zap anyone who asks into believing you have one?"

"I am capable of many illusions, but to influence someone's mind, I would need the aid of an object I do not at the moment possess."

Spike set them up with a forger of passports. The price was steep, but Loki and Faith had money to spare. At the end of the second day, Loki had a passport in the name of "Lucas King."

Spike heard about Loki's ability to "read" humans in poker games and suggested they go to Atlantic City, but Faith wasn't keen on fighting half the demon population reportedly looking for them. She would have liked to visit New York City, but Loki was reluctant to go there, probably because he had been responsible for the destruction of a large section of it.

Faith knew that Spike had been quietly gathering more information on Loki. He tried to bring up the subject of Loki's past whenever he and Faith were alone, but Faith didn't want to hear what he had to say. He accused her of acting the way she did with the Mayor. Spike didn't realize that Faith had known what the Mayor was, but she was so unhappy, she convinced herself it didn't matter. The fact was that the Mayor genuinely liked her, flaws and all. He gave her emotional support and validation. He made her feel like she had a family and a true friend, no matter what.

She got that from Loki, too, for the most part, except for the time he shut her out, and he was probably trying to protect her then. That he was also her lover and the father of her child, that she suspected she was probably all he had at the moment, that she flat-out loved so many things about him -- these things also made Faith hold more strongly to Loki, made her determined to stick with him. She felt her eyes were open, and from what she saw, he was not after power for the sake of something evil, something that wasn't a part of him. He didn't really seem to be after power at all, even though he liked to imagine himself as Asgard's king.

Sometimes she did wonder if rescuing Angel and fostering Potentials had made her into a person who wanted to save individual people whose names she knew instead of just people in general, no-one in particular. Was she trying to connect to others in this way, instead of a healthy way, whatever that was? Was she trying to get people to forgive her in advance of them knowing anything about her? Whatever it was, it didn't work, not even for Giles, who'd been like a father to her but who she felt she'd left worse off.

Loki didn't seem to need saving, or at least upfront, he appeared to have everything under control -- until he really didn't, like on their trip to New Jersey. Spike's revelation that Loki had tried to kill himself really shook Faith. She knew what it was like to be lost and alone, and unable to admit it or ask for help. She'd seen how poorly he coped with old hurt and anger. She didn't think she was trying to save him, though. He was actually the most normal relationship she'd ever had.

So, when Spike would start, she'd just tell him to mind his own business unless he wanted her in his business. But sometimes she couldn't avoid him.

"Do you know what Stockholm Syndrome is?" Spike asked as they went to pick up the passport.

"I'm gonna guess it's the opposite of Empty Nest Syndrome," Faith answered. "Like when you put a house together, maybe a nursery." She touched her stomach and smiled cautiously.

"It's when you're with someone abusive and you take on their way of looking at the world and would do anything to please them. You become a mind-slave, making excuses for their bad behavior."

"Loki doesn't hurt me."

"He isolated you, in the mountains, and replaced your view of the world with his."

"Not even close. I have no idea how someone from Asgard thinks. I can still make my own decisions. I'm not in a cult. Sure, we were alone together. It was wonderful. I could see a life without killing for the first time. Wouldn't you like that?"

"This is not about me, luv."

"I've been alone with others and still kept my personality. Being with Loki is like a partnership, like a friendship. It's healthier than anything you ever had with Buffy." She hoped that would scald him enough to get him to back off.

"Buffy plans things. She figures out what's what. She's a leader. You never were a leader, and now you've found someone to follow. I'm just asking, do you really know where he's going?"

"Says someone who follows Buffy wherever she goes. From the day I was born, I never knew where I was going. I never cared. The important thing is to pay attention to where you are."

"Where you are is bein' a Slayer. It's what you were made for, hunting, killing. Picture yourself changing nappies and taking the kid for a stroll down the park in midday, chatting with the biddies sitting on the benches. You'll be back to prowling at night in a moment, because you have to."

"Who's trying to mind-control me now? I can do something else, maybe be the first to survive being a Slayer. I've been more than happy finishing vampires, but when you think about it, it's not a great lifestyle. I can change if I want to. Anyway, look who's talking, mister vampire who chose to get a soul."

"I'm not taking the piss here."

Faith confessed, "Maybe I was always meant to be a Slayer. From the time I was a little girl, I slept with something sharp under my pillow, scissors or a knife later on. It's strange now that I think about it. I used to tell myself I wanted to be prepared. I'm not sure against what.

"Thing is, I stopped sleeping with a knife under my pillow in the mountains. It wasn't rational. I was freaked over wild animals. But I felt I didn't need it.

"Not everything has to be about killing. I can change. I already have."

"You think he's good for you? What's he going to do while you're Mum of the Year?"

Her voice grew sadder. "He wants to go back home. I don't see how I can follow him there."

Spike sounded both irritated and contrite, "Come back here and hang with me, then."

Faith made a wistful grin. "I just keep winning."

Spike shook his head.

Loki must have been aware of Spike's meddling, and decided to return the favor. He obtained a phone from a dealer in Hoboken, and made several calls in which he identified himself as "William Pratt." Faith didn't pay attention to his calls. Then she remembered that Spike had been called "William the Bloody" once.

"I hope you're not pulling some kind of trick on Spike," she warned Loki.

"I only have his best interests at heart," Loki assured her.

"I totally don't believe that."

"It makes me sad to see him waste his talents in a cave."

"He's taking time off. I think he's recovering from another run-in with Buffy. I hope you're not screwing with that."

Loki sighed. "I'll admit that I've set up an opportunity for him. If he plays his cards right, he could end up very well off indeed. If not... he will survive. It's his decision."

Faith considered warning Spike that Loki was up to something, but she decided it would just be an opportunity for Spike to give her one more talking-to. She didn't need to hear it. She was determined to make the trip with Loki for lots of reasons. She wanted to know what he wanted with a Slayer artifact. She wanted to help him with any demons or other creeps he might encounter. She wanted to know that he was OK. Mostly, she just wanted to be with him.

Faith and Loki packed their stuff. Loki finished first and sat with Spike on a rock in the outer cave chamber. Spike began singing, "Some day my prince will come..."

"I find your attempts at humor extremely limited," Loki grumbled. "Furthermore, I was a king."

"You already know I was a lord in Los Angeles."

"How easy it must be to come by a title in this realm."

"Had to kill a few demons and lose my soul... "

Loki's voice filled with delight. "But this is a most egregious lie."

"I got it back."

The happiness left Loki's voice, replaced by a bitter tone. "I'm overcome with joy that you won't be accompanying us."

"And here was I being a gracious host."

"In your cave, surrounded by your..." Loki paused and said with detached amusement, "... dirt."

"I prefer to see it as a flat in the country."

"The capacity of the creatures on this planet to delude themselves never fails to confound me."

"Speaking of delusion, I wish Faith would see reason about you."

"I find her to be eminently reasonable."

Spike gruffed, "You can't play the honest type with me."

Loki issued a mock warning. "Take care lest you besmirch the name of an Asgardian royal."

"Whose reputation I bloody well know, and so would Faith, if she ever read a book."

Loki sounded skeptical "A brawler and a reader?"

"I've lived centuries. If you don't read, you go stark."

"Stark would be an extreme result," Loki agreed. "I've lived eons beyond your existence."

"I know. Yours is bigger than mine."

Loki barked out a short laugh.

"Have something to give you. Read it to Faith."

"This is quite touching. _Your Baby and You._ "

"Hear, take care of Faith. She's had hard lines in her life."

"Are you afraid I will damage her? She is more resilient than you give her credit for being."

"I'm just saying, you'll have to answer to me if she get's hurt."

Loki was greatly amused. "You're more reckless than most to stand up to a god. Is this because you're not mortal, but rather a vampire?"

"I'm not most vampires. They were cowards when they were made."

"You shouldn't lie to one known as the God of Lies."

"So that _is_ what they call you!"

"Some do."

"Faith would only admit to mischief."

"Faith lives up to her name. It is one of her charms."

"Whether or not she's made a mistake."

"In me, she has not."

Faith came out of the back room. "We gotta go. Take care of our car and my bike."

Spike faked being insulted. "No concern for my welfare then?"

She put the keys on a rock ledge and said, "Don't lose them. I'll want them back."

Spike glanced at the keys, a faraway look on his face.

"Don't paint the windows black."

"Come on. It'll wash off..."

"Drive at night. Find another way to get around in the day."

She walked out of the cave along the dark road, joking with Spike. She watched Loki pause at the rock with the keychain, staring at it. He looked up at her and smiled when he saw her watching.

Loki walked out to join them, just as Spike was saying, "He's got style, I'll give him that."

Loki handed him the laptop with a barely-suppressed smirk, saying only, "Look after this."

Faith gave Loki a huge grin. He walked up to her with an equally large smile. They jumped the fence. She put her arm around his arm, and they set off on foot.

Faith called back to Spike, "See you."

"If not..."

"Me, too"

As they walked up the road, she heard Spike say to himself, "If the demon doesn't end the world thanks to you lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes: the "preview" comic that probably blows my Loki characterization out of the water, the new S.H.I.E.L.D. TV show preview that seems to have a Faith 2.0 character, a realization about the essential nature of Whedon's characters. Argh.


	17. At Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Faith continue their journey.

Faith took Loki to the Port of Newark. She had found a general cargo ship that also carried passengers. She knew most ships had stopped offering berths because it was late in the year and conditions could be unpredictable, but that only meant there were empty cabins. She was confident they could secure a space.

She knew about ships because vampires rarely took planes, even for short trips. There was always the danger of having to sit in a bright cabin in the middle of a sunlit field or having to run through an airport along an endless wall of picture windows. Even night flights couldn't protect against unforeseen delays and schedule changes. When X-ray security became standard, vampires avoided airports unless they could be guaranteed entry by demons, who managed ticketing and customer service.

The few vampires who left their places of creation and traveled over great oceans used ships. Vampire occupations of ships were famous, thanks to the gluttony of Dracula and others, but careful vampires could board liners and feed quietly, avoiding the kill until they reached their destinations. Some even managed to control their appetites altogether, a difficult accomplishment. These vampires boarded freighters and if they didn't hide within the crates and boxes, often worked as hands on undesirable night shifts.

So Faith went to the port because she knew that they could find last-minute accommodation with few questions asked. She couldn't be sure of that in an airport, especially with S.H.I.E.L.D. following their movements. Besides, she couldn't picture Loki taking off his shoes for some stone-faced, uniformed bouncer. Then there was the question of whether his fake passport would fly.

The ship was going straight to Europe. Rough weather was predicted. The ship probably shouldn't have been leaving the docks. It certainly shouldn't have made the voyage with unseasoned tourists. However, Loki offered the captain a pile of cash he couldn't refuse. He and Faith came aboard with no problems.

Loki was looking like a working man, his hair tied back. He sported black jeans and a dark green sweater, with a pea coat that was long for the style. At Faith's suggestion, he removed the black nail polish. The captain, a depressed-looking Scandinavian, didn't blink an eye at Loki or his bogus passport.

Loki calmly informed the captain that Faith was his wife. The captain looked like he didn't care. He showed them to a small cabin at the front of the ship, away from the hubbub of the crew men's quarters and galley. The cabin had an attached bath.

As they were settling in, Faith observed, "Wife? I've done a lot of role-playing, but never that one."

"The role is temporary, until we leave this vessel."

"Why bother? The captain didn't ask."

"The captain isn't the only man on the ship. You are, as my wife, both protected and unavailable."

"I'm all that without being your property, too."

His brows knit slightly in a quizzical expression. "Being my wife would not make you my property."

"Says the guy who tries to barter me off to every demon he meets."

"That is not true." He got that tight, annoyed look on his face that told Faith not to delve further into it unless she wanted him to really shut down.

She laughed. "Never pictured myself hitched."

His expression only darkened.

"Nothing personal. A Slayer just has no business getting married," she informed him in a frank voice.

He stood with a haughty air. "When I marry, it will be for the good of Asgard." He made a stiff turn towards the door, his mouth forming a frown. "And I have been promised to another."

He abruptly left the cabin, saying he wanted to discuss their arrangements with the captain.

Faith sat down on the bed. She felt like Loki had unloaded a bucket of despair on her that spread like a cold syrup. The shock was bad enough. Then there was feeling of sodden weight pulling her down, the confusion of trying to understand what was happening, and after that, the dilemma of having to figure out how to get out of the mess without making it worse. It was a horrible feeling.

She had thought she was being realistic. She had never wanted marriage, not even before she become a Slayer. Her parents' train wreck and every other mismatch she saw convinced her marriage was for dopes who were determined to hurt themselves. She had been determined to remain unattached, for her own safety. That never worked the way she wanted it to. Try as she might to be a loner, she still needed connection. She felt she had that with Loki.

She knew she and Loki couldn't get married and live together in a house in the suburbs, or even a cabin in the woods like she hoped for. She was a Slayer and he was a god. They could never be normal. Marriage was a ridiculous idea.

But to be told it was impossible, that there was already someone else waiting for him -- it must have been the hormones again, making her emotional. 'Toughen up,' she scolded herself, desperate to keep from crying.

Soon, she didn't care about her personal life. The ship left the port a half hour after they boarded. Ten minutes later, she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Her head throbbed and she wanted to crash. Then she started throwing up.

Loki found her collapsed over the small toilet bowl. She was covered in chilly perspiration, shaking and pale, with no energy or inclination to move. She had been vomiting. Only dry heaves were left. She had made a quick grab at a sip of water. That had been a mistake. She was convinced only death could end the misery she felt.

Loki lifted her weak body and carried her to the deck of the ship. He placed her near the side going out to sea and sat next to her kneeling form, his arm around her upper back, holding her in place. His cool hand against her face felt good, as did the wind off the water pushing against the ship. He put his other hand above her wrist and applied gentle pressure. "Look at the horizon," he ordered in a calming tone. She tried, but dense clouds hung on the water. The swirling gray mists made her dizzy.

Faith might have pushed him away if she hadn't been so weak. A tear fell from her eye despite her resolution not to get weepy. "I'm a Slayer. I don't get sick."

Loki's arm tightened around her shoulders. He called a crew member, who left and came back with a cup of tea that smelled like peppermint and a package of soda crackers. She sipped the tea and managed to down a cracker. They came right back up.

A deckhand announced to Loki that they moved the couple to the center of the ship. He also handed Loki some Dramamine. Faith refused to use it without knowing how it would affect the baby.

It took three days for Faith to get her sea legs. Loki stayed with her the whole time, only leaving to take his meals with the captain because she couldn't stomach seeing him eat. He would bring food back for her, but she only drank tea, and that reluctantly.

She also had another problem. She had been getting sharp cramps combined with chills. The cramps would last only a second, but it felt like a cold knife being driven through her. Then a chill would spread throughout her body in a wave. Oddly, both sensations seemed to come from her womb.

She didn't tell Loki because she was ashamed of being sick in the first place and, like a stupid girl who would rather choke to death in a bathroom than make a scene at the dinner table, she didn't want to bother anyone. She was used to handling things on her own. Plus, concealing any weaknesses was second nature for her.

On the third day, finally starting to feel human as Loki stroked the hair back from her forehead, Faith murmured, "How'd you get to be so good with invalids?"

He gave her a grudging smile. "I traveled with someone who, despite his many feats and fabled strength, found himself felled when he first encountered the sea. Enduring his stubborn refusal to believe he could be defeated by water and could not overcome this malady through force of will, I taught him over long days to conquer his affliction. I now regret having done so. How merry it would have been to see him prostrate before his would-be allies on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier."

She observed, "Your friend was lucky to have you around."

"I thought this, too, but when the crisis passed, he was not thankful. Indeed, he saw to it I was repaid for my insolence in daring to handle him as a weakling. As healing is a womanly art in Asgard, he sought to treat with me as if I were female. I would not deign to care so kindly for him again." His face reflected a bitter sadness.

Her attention span was limited and mostly focused on herself, but she felt bad she wasn't at her best. "Hope I haven't been like that."

His eyes scanned her face with mild humor. "Aside from being a warrior, you are nothing like him."

"Still, it's probably been a pain to be with me the past few days."

He looked at her with solemn sincerity. "I like passing time with you, my lady. You allow me my solitude instead of insisting on intrusion. You assure me your support instead of seeking ways to censure. You give me comfort unconnected with pain or trial. Your heart is sincere, your mind is thoughtful, and your spirit is full of fun. If I can but return a portion of this to you while we remain together, then gladly I will."

Faith was touched by his comments, unusually personal for him. Maybe it was because he'd spent three days by her side with nothing but his own company. Or maybe being at sea allowed him to cast off the concerns of the land.

When she finally left the cabin, she was surprised to find that Loki got along fine with the crew. He wasn't at all unpleasant, mocking the insignificant ants. She wondered how much of a chance he had ever given mortals in the past. He seemed to respect the work the sailors did and find their company entertaining.

Even more improbably, the crew seemed to like him, maybe because, as they told her, life on a ship could be excruciatingly boring, but with 'Lucas,' you never knew what was going to happen. She suspected his kind of excitement would wear thin if they stayed at sea for longer than a month, the projected duration of the voyage. He played games because they amused him more than anything else. Sometimes she felt the games had a serious edge. He could judge others pretty hard at times.

The Norwegian captain most of all seemed to enjoy taking to Loki, though he remained distant with Faith. The captain had been a sailor almost all his life, only settling on land to get a college degree. He was a storehouse of nautical knowledge, but Loki primarily talked Norse legends and culture with him.

Faith got along well with the crew. They were at first a little over-polite around her. Not one of them was from North America. The galley staff was from the Philippines. The rest of the small crew came from everywhere on the globe. Many of them spoke patchy English, so they welcomed the opportunity to practice conversing with Faith. They could discuss personal concerns with her, too, in a way they probably couldn't with other crewmen. They liked getting a woman's perspective on people in their land-lives. Eventually, she felt they viewed her as a kind of eccentric sister.

She could see why a vampire would enjoy travel on a modern ship. The whole thing was made of metal. Even the furniture was welded together and bolted to the metal flooring. It wasn't a romantic cruise with deckchairs and a pool. The freighter was all business, as cold and unforgiving as the ocean.

During the day, Faith usually enlisted Loki to help her keep in shape by training. Nights, after dining with the captain and Loki, she would watch films with the crew or play cards. If Loki joined her, he would gamble, tell outrageous tales, and sing bawdy songs. She liked seeing him like that. She could keep up her end, too. Still, she was glad that there was no drinking allowed on board ship.

The weather was generally bleak or blasting. Sometimes there was a break. Faith would go up on deck and gaze out at the horizon, breathe the salty air, and stand beneath the relentless sun or a wheel of stars. She often saw dolphins plunging ahead of the prow. She saw a pod of whales once. Loki had been with her. He seemed leery of the whales, for some reason.

She sometimes found it boring to be on a ship. Even watching videos got old. There wasn't much else to do. She never liked reading, but even if she wanted to, she thought it would make her seasick and she couldn't face that again.

So, she and Loki had lots of sex. It was really the only time she got to be alone with him. They became very inventive. For a thin guy, he was ridiculously athletic and flexible.

When she and Loki got their groove back on, his lovemaking was louder and more exuberant than usual. It was like he was announcing to the world that he was getting some action. She had to wonder what was going on with him, but since when was she not wondering? His changeability, along with the mystery behind it, was part of his charm, but also part of the frustration of being with him.

In their cabin, despite the close quarters and fixed furniture, they were usually as happy as two cubs in a den, warm and frolicking, rocking in the arms of the sea.

Then there were the times the waves tossed the boat back and forth, slamming them around the cabin. That was more exciting for Faith.

Loki seemed at ease sailing on the ocean. He said he enjoyed it. She asked, "Have you been at sea before?"

"I have, though the sea frightens most on Asgard. It is vast, a plain from horizon to horizon, with no frame of reference in the day save the blazing sun, with no guide at night save the uncaring stars, unless the boat is caught in the veils of fog or the chaos of storms and the world closes in isolation on the traveler and his vessel. The sea can overpower the senses, or dull them to nothing. But I have always traveled where others feared to go, sometimes by water, sometimes by air, oft through the byways of Yggdrasil."

"How do you travel by tree?"

He smiled down at her with a pleased expression. "Traversing the World Tree is very like entering a swift river. You let yourself float light as a leaf on a current, and twist to emerge at an exit."

"Sounds cool."

His voice became wistful. "One needs magic to travel along Yggdrasil. Perhaps with my assistance, you may someday know its passages."

"Is that how all people from Asgard travel?"

He scowled. "No. The men look askance at magic and would not be seen to practice it. The women do not travel, preferring the ties of their homes. But I am more curious than others in Asgard, more inclined to restlessness and a yearning for a certain kind of adventure."

"I can imagine."

"That is half the trick, using imagination. Few in Asgard exercise it. It is a society grown stagnant in its self-congratulation. Only conflict shakes the Aesir out of their daze. I can never settle into such stupor. My nature prevents it."

"I've never settled, either." Faith drew her eyebrows together and said speculatively, "It must have been difficult, being different from other people."

"Still trying to psychoanalyze me?" He seemed more amused than angry. "It is difficult being among dolts and fools anywhere." He frowned, a furrow between his brows, his mouth a small pout. "Because I am different, some on Asgard call me a monster. I would not return there soon. Even after this quest..."

"You're not a monster."

He turned his eyes towards the wall. "Think of your worst monsters. Did you always know them for what they were? Or did they have families, people for whom they seemed to cared, confusing their evil?"

She thought of the Mayor, who she believed would never have hurt her, though he sought to rule the world and didn't otherwise care who he had to kill to do it. She was probably the only person who ever thought about him now. She didn't hate him.

She thought of Angel, who as Angelus would have killed anyone Angel loved. He killed the woman Giles loved. There were times he became Angelus on purpose. Still, she could never hate him.

She thought of Willow, who tried to end the world after losing her lover. Will still tripped the dark fantastic once in a while. The most Willow did was time in a country club for magical rehab while Faith was rotting in some cell, pulling her hair out from boredom. But Faith had always liked Willow.

She thought about herself, so lost in pain she tried to make everyone pay for it. She thought she had no-one. Now she had Loki.

Faith joked, "So you're saying you care for me?"

He smiled slyly. "I don't believe I said that."

"Because I care for you, and I trust you." His smile became softer, but she didn't think she eased the burden of whatever troubles he was carrying. "I know why S.H.I.E.L.D. calls you a monster. You placed humans in danger and didn't care. They probably never asked why."

"They were too busy fighting me."

"I probably would have, too."

He turned serious green eyes on her. "I would have expected no less."

"I don't know why the people of Asgard call you a monster. You're their prince."

"I was their king, yet I was betrayed in favor of one who had been exiled for bringing war to Asgard, a war I single-handedly ended as king. But to do so, I had to kill the ruler of another world."

She frowned deeply at this revelation. She hadn't known that he'd deliberately killed. She felt there was something he wasn't telling her.

He searched her face, then drew back, certainty closing off his expression. "And thus am I become a monster."

She frowned again. "Well, it sounds extreme, killing and all...but I've done it. Hey, it's all I do! You know, to make people safe."

"Such was my motive. One life against many others, to end a war."

Faith began to examine her fingernails.

"Look at your own history, countries invaded for strategic gain, a small force sent against one man, this man killed without a trial on the word of your president alone. And I did not endanger a small force or an entire army for the sake of vengeance; it was Loki, alone, who determined to end the continued threat to his people and to Odin-king who slept while abomination crept upon his territory."

"It sounds like they should have had a celebration, the way they did with bin Laden."

"Except that the one who started the war and was then exiled returned in stealth before my triumph was announced, to challenge me, to call me wrong, to blame me for taking his throne. He forced me to further measures to prove my loyalty to Asgard and eliminate the threat of our enemies, that which I alone could do, and without putting a single Aesir life at risk." He was becoming agitated, his eyes moving wildly and yet not focusing on anything. "He was the first to call me mad. Was it madness to seek the safety of my people, then find out they never were my people, that they would never support me, merely because of who I am, because they trusted another who betrayed them to needless violence only to assuage his bruised ego? How then was I mad?"

"Loki?" Faith queried. She put her hand on his arm to hold him in place. She was afraid he was going to start pacing, causing the ship to rock and the crew to freak out. She was afraid she was going to lose him to hysteria or worse, the strange shades of his being, light one instant, shadow the next.

His head was in motion, his eyes seeking some point to fix on, then he stared at her with desperate need and he became still. "You believe in me, don't you?"

"Yeah. I always will."

Momentary guilt fell across his face. "Even if I haven't told the entire truth?"

"You can start telling the truth any time you want. I'm not gonna turn away."

He looked at her as if he had woken up from a dream, wide-eyed, in wonder. "My Faith, aptly named."

"Blame my parents. They had a weird sense of humor."

"I would say they were prophetic."

She kissed him and moved closer to him. He fell silent, as if in turmoil, not knowing what to say next. She brought their conversation back to mundane things: the quality of the food, the variability of the wind, the scratchiness of the blankets. He eventually calmed down. She stretched out next to him on the bed. He retreated into a book the captain had given him to study their future travel route.

"Loki, about the computer... did it still have those images on it, from the demon who owned the bus?"

"Of course."

"Does Spike know that?"

"I am sure he does." Loki grinned like a prankster awaiting the springing of a trap. "I hid them in an encrypted file. It may take him some time to unlock the file, but he has an eternity in which to try."

"Why did you even keep them?"

He looked at her with a questioning tilt of the head. "Why ever not? They showed me the damage potential enemies could inflict. More than that, I thought they might be useful some day."

"I mean, they made you so upset in the bus."

He still looked as if he were trying to understand her. "I have enough memories of my own to upset me. These pictures are trivialities."

"Memories don't stop unless you talk about them."

He looked puzzled. "How know you this?"

"I read it in _Parade_ magazine, or maybe a _People_ in a hair salon."

"I would not burden you with my experience."

"Someday I hope you will."

He kissed her forehead. "Do not concern yourself about this."

One stormy night was so turbulent, the waves broke across the deck, battering the shipment stored there. The ropes and chains securing tanks of chemicals came loose. The crew members were afraid of the tanks, which contained chemicals that could explode on contact with water. Despite their terror, they worked to bring the metal canisters back to the center of the deck before the whole ship tilted into the ocean or a barrel split open.

A crew member broke his leg when a tank rolled over it. Loki heard the commotion above the roar of the wind. He ran up to the deck and helped to secure the cargo. He probably could have done it alone, but he did enough working with others that the steward was impressed.

Thus, even though he wasn't a registered seaman, Loki took over the injured worker's duties. After that, he started to compete with the crew to tie off lines or secure large tanks or crates, almost always winning. Faith suspected that when he didn't win, he was taking a fall on purpose.

She also got to see how gods came to be worshiped by humans, even when the gods had no active desire for adulation. The crew members already thought Lucas was some kind of rock star, with his long hair, stylish dress, and high-class manners. When he came on board, he lightened their days with his stories and mischievous personality. When he worked with them, however, they developed a kind of reverence for his abilities.

But because he was one of them, she didn't think they could ever fear him they way she imagined a god would be feared. They'd never talk about him the way they might a jealous god who demanded worship of himself alone and punished those who refused, like so many of the gods that had afflicted the Earth in the past. God was love until he sent you to Hell, and then what was he but an insecure male who punished because you somehow didn't love him enough? A family annihilator.

For all his impetuous arrogance, she couldn't imagine Loki as one of the authoritarian gods, telling people to kneel to bolster his embattled ego. Loki was sensitive and fun-loving. He cared about her and their child.

She knew he wasn't a natural leader. She wondered if he understood that. He would expect others to follow the law, but even though he was a prince, he didn't embody the law. If anything, he would sabotage any rule he set up just to see what would happen. If she sensed this about him, others would, too.

And yet, she realized that if he wanted to be a leader, he could have done it on the deck of that ship. The crew were in awe of Loki and he had enough knowledge and passion about what he was doing that they would have listened to him. They respected him.

The crew also respected Faith for her fighting skills and for going against Loki in practice drills. With time on her hands, she learned how to use the ship's computers. She studied to get better at playing card games. If the game involved luck, she had a good chance of winning. If the game involved strategy or subterfuge, she was hopeless. Though he was silent, she could feel Loki laughing at her in games that required pretense, but he only ever said he was proud of her.

After card games and late into the evening, Loki continued to tell her stories of his life. She told him more about being a Slayer. Their discussions branched out to include general philosophy and reflections on the behavior of others. They always had something to talk about, but they didn't have to talk.

"How many people have you as a Slayer saved?"

"More like, how many did I manage not to kill. I don't make the best decisions."

"You've remained alive, which is more than the Golden Slayer did."

"One of her deaths was a sacrifice, though, for her sister."

"Ah."

"If it's any consolation, I did try to get someone to kill me once."

His eyes widened. "Why?"

"I felt I was bad, you know, evil."

"Yes, I can see that."

She punched him in the arm. He smiled and put his arms around her. "Why did you think that?"

"Face it, I'm a freak of nature. And I killed a man."

"I read about that. Mistakes don't make you evil."

"Not everything I did was a mistake. Anyway, bottom line, I hated myself and what I'd done. It was too much, you know? I wanted to strike out at those I thought caused it. But really, I didn't see an end to it. I just wanted it to end."

He looked as if he was closing into himself. She kissed his cheek and looked into his eyes, smiling at him. He smiled back. "I'm relieved that you do not feel the same now."

"It gets to be a day-to-day thing. Some things, they're hard to let go of. The people I've hurt, my family, my calling..." She shrugged her shoulders. "Some days, I wonder I'm still here."

He looked as if he was still mulling things over. He said, "You speak so freely of this. Am I correct in thinking that you feel no shame in these confessions?"

"Hey, welcome to the U.S.A. Universal Self-Absorption. But, no, why should I be ashamed? This is who I am. It's been a long struggle to get here. Living is the real fight."

"We do not examine our motives in Asgard. It is important only to act. We train so we will act without thought or question, our purpose predetermined. As a prince, I was educated to assume a duty to my people, to conduct myself as above them and yet always for them, to consider appearance and decorum. Speaking of my feelings would have been the basest behavior, and would have earned me certain disdain."

"You can't help feeling things, though. It's not good to keep yourself bottled up. Your emotions come out all wrong."

"Not everyone can understand how another feels, even if you express it."

"I guess. Still, is it better to be alone without anyone knowing?"

"One would be lucky to find a sympathetic ear in my world."

"Plus the whole being a guy thing seems to be as screwed up on Asgard as it is here."

"I could never be one of your 'guys.'"

"That's right. Share those feelings."

"Please don't be humorous." He grimaced.

"You do OK as a guy. Didn't you want me to teach you about human females? Feelings are a big part of being human."

"I didn't say I wanted to _be_ human. What a disgusting idea!"

She smiled. "Disgusting, huh? Is this disgusting?" She licked the sharp edge of his chin to just under his ear.

"Revolting."

"Is that what it's called?" she asked, brushing her hand over his increasing erection.

"What would you call it?" he replied, his voice thin with breathlessness.

"I asked first."

He whispered, "I have no words for this."

"Then let’s stop talking."

They rarely discussed the future. They never talked about raising their child. She wasn't a coward, but she thought it was already decided and why dwell on it? Besides, she couldn't imagine raising the kid as an heir to the throne in a royal court. She couldn't see herself in the role of princess or mistress or whatever it was in Asgard, eating bonbons and sitting around, staring at the landscape or the subjects, playing the piano or embroidering like they did in Jane Austen movies, gossiping all day.

She wondered what he would expect out of his wife. He had nothing good to say about the women in Asgard. The best thing he said was that they were pretty, and he seemed angry about that. She got the impression that Loki's own mother shut up when her husband decided, even when the decision concerned her children. Faith wasn't about to keep quiet for anyone. Loki hadn't asked her to, though. Maybe that was because he wasn't supposed to marry her and make her a proper Asgard wife, so he felt he had no business telling her what to do.

Anyway, she was happy pretending everything was normal for a while. She figured that was the reason she got them on board a ship: more time together before he had to leave.

Loki had no problem being there. He was naturally curious. He observed the galley staff as they made meals. He learned to tie ropes and operate machinery from the deckhands. He spent time with the mechanic, even suggesting a short-cut for maintaining the engines. They were all eager to show him their work.

He spent a lot of time with the captain. When Faith asked him what they did, he said the captain was educating him in the command of a ship, something he had never considered doing, but the knowledge might prove useful.

"You really like that captain."

He had a curious look on his face. "Do you not like him?"

"Doesn't say much to me. Keeps to himself, except for you."

"I admire certain qualities in him. If I were a woman, he would be the sort of mate I would seek: reliable, but open-minded; scholarly, but not seeking to impress; capable, yet modest."

"If you were a woman," Faith laughed, "you'd hanging around some dumb but pretty bodybuilder, leading him straight into a world of trouble."

He murmured, "Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think."

"If I knew everything about you, how would you ever surprise me?"

His trained his sharp attention on her as if he was considering what she was saying.

When she thought about it later, it was a crazy conversation. She hoped he wasn't trying to promote the captain as some kind of partner for her after he left Midgard. That was just creepy, and sad.

Faith usually ate dinner with Loki and the captain. Like many mortals, the captain thought he knew Norse mythology. He had actually made a deeper study of it than most. He and Loki would get into long-ranging conversations, always starting with the captain telling a story "the way I was told it as a boy." He would elaborate with the many variations he'd encountered in books. Invariably, Loki would then tell the same story from a completely different perspective, often with different locations and people. That would launch a good-natured argument over the meaning of the myth, fueled by the captain's aquavit, the only alcohol on board, put out to celebrate the season.

Faith rarely hung around for the drinking and discussion. She figured reading a lot and talking about what you read was what you did if you were immortal like Loki or a scholarly introvert stuck on a boat like the captain. She was more down-to-earth, and she preferred to have her brainpower on low during her downtime. TV was perfect for that.

Also, book talk made her feel stupid. She could talk to Loki about ideas, but it came from her experience, not reading. The captain was something else, a one-man book club.

One night, however, the rain was pelting against the cabin. It sounded like a nail gun. She wanted to stay close to Loki.

After dinner, the captain began a story about Thor visiting Utgard-Loki. Loki could barely contain his giddy excitement when the captain announced the story, but when the captain ended it by commenting on story-Loki’s great fear, Loki became grim.

Loki turned to Faith. "Tell me," he asked, "what does this story say to you?"

She felt self-conscious, but said, "Well... Thor might have been strong, but he was pretty clueless not to figure out what was going on right under his nose. Magic is no joke, and that giant was wicked powerful. Guess Thor being stupid is the point of the story. Funny that the Norse made fun of their gods that way."

"No, no," the captain interrupted in a hectoring tone. "Utgard-Loki was actually the god, Loki. He was jealous of Thor, the favorite in Asgard as well as Midgard, so he set up trials to test Thor's strength. When he realized how mighty Thor was, he became truly terrified of him for the first time."

Loki faced the captain. "Terrified of what? Thor did not win a battle. He did not kill the giant, one who spoke to him with insolence."

"But he did win, you see. Loki's extreme jealousy and inability to best Thor were both exposed."

"To whom? To Thor? Please," Loki laughed in derision. "As my lady said, what was exposed was Thor's naivety and his brutality, his willingness to trip into any magical trap without question, the lack of subtlety of his mind that he would bluster without examining his surroundings and proceed to make a fool of himself, that he would believe he could with his crude hammer best one who used magic and indeed, if you are correct about Utgard-Loki's identity, best one who saw to the creation of that hammer. If Utgard-Loki was really Loki, then it seems to me that Loki had the best of the encounter."

"What some call brutality in action others have called courage and strength. Most people see Loki as the one who was weak, even evil, and certainly treacherous, for using magic."

"This is false consciousness. Thor could not have stepped across Utgard-Loki's threshold had his very nature not been steeped in magic, much as he would try to deny it. All in Asgard used magic." Loki huffed. "And where does evil truly reside? Was it evil to try to teach Thor a lesson that hurt no thing but Thor's pride? Thor had traveled to another land to prove his superiority to its inhabitants. He would have killed them to prove this, and did raise his hammer in the end to the one who had been his host."

Loki appealed to the captain, "On this same trip, Thor ripped two children from their parents and their home because they disobeyed his order. Do you not consider Thor evil for that?"

The captain replied simply, "No. The children went on to become champions and earn their own fame. They went on to glory. Their paths were fated." The captain paused to pour two more glasses of liquor, for himself and Lucas. "Besides, it's not as if it was real. The story's an allegory."

Loki growled back, "They were children. They cried for their parents at night. Thor turned a deaf ear to their sorrow. Is this not wickedness most cruel?"

"It was the way of the Aesir gods, the right to take children from their parents, to do with them as they wanted. Aye, it was the way of the Norse, who wrote the stories." He sipped his drink in reflection. "What is your version, then, Lucas?"

Loki had a wild expression in his eyes. He took a deep breath while he considered the question. "Surprisingly, it is similar to yours. The location was different, of course. The Aesir did not hold social meetings with giants, or even engage in tournaments or challenges with them. The immense enmity between Jotun and Aesir would not permit this."

The captain retorted, "If Loki was in disguise as the giant, as I think, then the place of meeting would not matter. His hall would have been an illusion, just as Utgard-Loki had been an illusion, one dispensed with in haste and fear when Thor raised his hammer, so as not to give away the game. The fact that Loki was in disguise shows the dishonorable nature of the whole business, that it had been a lie."

Loki laughed. "If you were traveling with a god who sought for conflict and you had decided to test him or to teach him a lesson, would you have told him of your plan? I think not, lest his blood lust be turned upon you. Thor was well met in battle, but it was neither his chosen field nor his wished-for opponent who met him. Thor faced an ingenious being who fought with his wits alone in the realm of illusion."

"Even a cursory reading of the myths shows that Thor scarcely learned lessons, certainly not from Loki, so why would Loki try? The important thing is that Thor remained standing in the end, against the most persistent opponents that ever existed. He _diminished_ these opponents with his great strength. Anyone would tremble in fear at that. I still say the whole premise shows Loki's jealousy of Thor, whose very existence took Odin's attention from the Trickster, making him lurk in Thor's shadow, using poison words and dirty deeds to gain recognition. Remember that Loki, though chosen by Odin to be his brother, was also abused by him enough to become anxious of the king's affection."

"Loki was closer to Odin's equal than his lackey or jester," Loki protested. "Consider that one who could use magic to harness the most elemental and terrible forces of nature did not have to fear an oaf with a hammer. If Thor was feared by any, it was for his raging temper and lack of forethought, not for his power."

"That's not so. Look at Lokasenna. Loki would talk back to anyone, call them names, even parlay with Odin, but he fled as soon as he was threatened by Thor."

"Or perhaps, by then, Thor had become uncontrollable in his tendency towards rash action. Perhaps Thor's rage exceeded in all proportion his capacity for reason, and the ever-perceptive Loki had seen this where others could not."

"Loki admitted to Balder's murder. How could Thor not be enraged?"

Faith asked, "Who's Balder?" She wondered if he was the one Loki killed to keep the peace in Asgard.

Loki hissed, "He was no-one. The stories of Balder are greatly exaggerated."

The captain scowled at Faith and lectured, "He was Odin's son."

Loki objected with, "He was a minor warrior, vain and prideful, and not Odin's son, but connected to Odin in service. Because of Balder’s ingratiating character, Odin thought him loyal above many others. Balder would show a pleasant face to all while accomplishing nothing of consequence."

The captain interjected, "If he was not Odin's son, why would Odin's wife visit all creatures and obtain their promise to never bring Balder the death his dreams foretold? Unfortunately, in her goodness, she could not see the mistletoe, a weak parasite, as was the creature who fashioned a spike out of it."

"Assuming the story has any basis in truth, which it cannot, the goddess of motherhood would always act for the good of others and in accord with the directions of her husband, who had a peculiar interest in Balder's welfare. The story itself, of Balder's subsequent downfall, showed the hubris of trying to deny death. And yes, he was killed by that which seemed the least powerful among beings. Does that not further explicate the cost of their pride, the Achilles’ Heel nature of the story?"

Listening to them had been tough going, but Faith perked up at the mention of the heel thing.

Loki continued, "It is an old tale, told in Hindu as well, with Duryodhana. The story is meant as a caution. Yet, perversely and because of his attachment to the House of Odin, Balder became a Christ figure in your tales, complete with a Madonna, the better to make the stories palatable to the rapidly ascending Christian ideology."

"I have heard this, but have not found the evidence. His story predates Christian influence."

"There is as much evidence for it as there is for any Norse tale, all of which are riddled with inaccuracies. I could tell you, for example, that Loki had a determined faction set against him when these tales were first told. Balder was a petty figure they elevated to show Loki in the worst aspect, even beyond Balder's death."

"When Loki became a woman to deny Balder's return! This is not the act of an honorable being."

Faith had to jump in. "What's wrong with being a woman?"

The captain glanced at her with irritation, then turned back to Loki, saying, "Then, full of anger, pride and ale, Loki admitted the whole thing."

Loki looked steadily at the captain and observed coolly, "You have not answered my lady's question."

He said in exasperation, "Forgive me, but it is irrelevant."

"But it is not. It is essential to the character of Loki. What power can Loki possess but that expressed in contradiction to Asgard's expectations?"

"That he took the role of a woman? It does not strengthen your argument. He took the form of a woman so nobody would retaliate against him."

"Odin also took the role of woman."

"Odin was wise. Loki was a pale replica of Odin, in all ways."

"Odin _chose_ Loki because of their similarities." Loki seemed like he was going to explode, but he dialed that back to a simmering resentment. "Yet, Odin was wrong. They were not the same. Odin in myth sought to belittle others, to make them fear him. Loki liked to have a good laugh, and that disturbed others. His nature was different from theirs."

"That's an understatement! His reputation came from sneaking around, from making decisions he hoped would get him admired but that only got him in trouble, from trying to find power but not having direct, real power, like Odin or Thor. Thor was a god to many, admired and liked, as was Odin, who was feared and esteemed. No-one worshiped Loki."

Loki sprang to his feet, chest out, arms straight by his sides. "This is outrageous slander! Loki had worshipers."

"There are no temples, no amulets, no stories of worship, except of the one desperate family he demanded sing his praises, his pathetic jealousy apparent yet again."

Loki's green eyes searched the room as if he was looking for some sanity. "A god of chaos would not value monuments. His power could not be reduced to an amulet. His followers would recognize him wherever transformation occurred. Their shrines would be ephemeral, the sacrifices reduced to ash and cloud, or washed away by the tide. Their prayers would be for insight, for change, for children to love. They would not pray for victory over opponents, for physical safety, for sons to carry their names. Those are prayers for Thor."

The captain smiled slowly. "Are you a Lokean, my friend? I should have guessed."

Loki jeered. "I follow no gods. Are you then a devotee of Thor?"

"Centuries ago, I might have been. In the present day, like you, I follow no gods. Still, I admire the strength of character that shaped Thor's power."

Loki's body slumped back into his seat. He said in a threatening manner, "This power, it is said, will not save Thor when he faces the Serpent of Midgard."

This segued into a discussion of Ragnarok, which was not Faith's thing. She'd heard enough end-of-the-world stories, and had lived through most of them, so the whole subject bored her. She excused herself, her head full of things to think about, and sought out the relative quiet of the video room.

Loki was less enamored of the captain after that evening, but they were long into their voyage by that point. After nearly a month at sea, the ship had been beset by delays, rough weather and high waves. There was no mistaking she was pregnant. Her belly was becoming huge. In private, Loki's hand always made its way to rest upon it. She would put her hand next to his.

He had started to talk to the baby, saying things like, "Your mother is a fierce fighter," or "Your mother protects her people," or "Your mother is a beautiful woman." At the last one, she felt like she had to add, "Your father likes to tell stories." She saw a hint of wariness in his eyes, then.

She remembered that this was how her parents used to get at each other, with sarcastic words, and the blows would follow. Maybe he had the same experience, royalty or not. So she said to the baby, "I mean that in a good way. The whole crew lines up to hear him tell a story. He's brilliant at it. Well, just brilliant in general."

She was glad to see Loki break into a crooked grin. She swore then that she would never say bad things about him in front of her child, that she would only say positive things.

He said to the child with a convincing tone, "My lady will be a good mother to you."

She couldn't talk to the baby the way he did. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because it wasn't kicking or moving yet. No chance of seeing an ultrasound, either.

She was often fearful about being a mother. Her whole life had been about violence, from her earliest memories. She hoped she could keep that away from her child, and that she'd never fall back on it herself.

Loki read _Your Baby and You_ to her in their cabin. She had a little trouble gauging what stage her pregnancy was at. She was way ahead of the human schedule. She couldn't zip her loosest pants. She wore Loki's belts to hold them up. She wore a bulky sweater she convinced him to buy when she decided they’d travel by sea. The sweater came down to her knees, but it hid the bulge in her middle.

"How long do women carry babies in Asgard?"

"I am not sure. Time is different there. Women also use magic to hasten birth, such that delivery would seem miraculous to a mortal. A servant might carry a child, but a goddess never would. I could, in truth, tell you more about horses than the Aesir."

"That's actually not helpful."

He looked at her speculatively. "It may be that you will carry our child to your normal human term."

"Except nothing is normal for me."

He looked off into space. "You have told me there are no known pregnancies among Slayers, save one. It may be that the demon possessing Slayers prevents pregnancy."

Faith remembered Frankie's comment in Las Vegas. "I don't really have a demon inside me, do I?"

"This was one of the things discovered by your Golden Slayer in her trip to Africa, one of the things that Spike may believe haunts her still. The shadow men infused a girl with a demon spirit to make her strong enough to fight vampires. It is this demon bond that has passed from Slayer to Slayer."

"Through the Braid of Souls."

"Oh, you are clever." He looked at her sideways and gave her a broad and wicked grin.

"So, this demon...you must have some idea. What kind is it?"

"Nobody knows." He shrugged.

"Is it evil, or something like that?"

"Do you feel evil, Lady Faith?" He smiled. "I do not perceive evil in you. I believe the demon confers strength and endurance, at a cost to a Slayer's viability as a mother, but does little more."

"I don't know. Slayers are a pretty messed-up group. We're all killers, when you get down to brass. But even before that, none of us had 'normal' upbringings. All of us are outsiders. Even when someone like Buffy tries to be normal, it all falls apart. It's like the Slayer line, or demon-thing, picks those with the least to lose, the ones who care the least about living."

His expression was grave. "I do not like to hear you speak of your death as if it is a casual thing that affects no-one. It may be that the Slayers are cursed, but you have outlasted that curse."

"The Curse of the Braid. Sounds like a bad hair day." She laughed weakly.

He fixed her with a solemn stare. "You have bested all odds, Lady Faith. Remember this."

Loki got to his feet. He walked away to join the crew in the entertainment room. Soon, she heard the friendly wagering that told of arm wrestling or some other contest, then she heard singing, probably the loser of the contest, and laughter.

Faith curled up in a ball on the bed. She had to force herself to leave the cabin as her pregnancy progressed. The chills had been getting worse, like someone shot ice water into her blood. She was glad she'd been able to hide her discomfort from Loki. She'd ask him again about Asgardian births the next time they were alone.

When he came back hours later, Faith was shivering. He sat on the bed and doubled the blankets over her. He stood and looked at her with concern. "Are you ill?" he asked.

"I'm cold," she answered. She admitted reluctantly, "It's the baby."

Loki's eyes rounded, but he quickly damped down his reactions. "Tell me what you're feeling."

She pouted, but another stab of pain shot through her, causing her to cry out. He was at her side immediately. She began to shiver again. "It's like someone took an ice pick and attacked me from inside, following by this, like, blizzard blowing through my body. It happens off and on. It started around the time I got seasick."

"All this time?" Loki's face registered real alarm.

"Yeah. Thought it was part of being at sea."

A wave of anxiety burst over him. "Will you be all right to remain here while I talk to the captain?"

"Why, you want him to say a few words over me?" Faith tried to make light of the situation.

"Of course not. I want to ask him to marry us." His pissed-off expression told Faith he was joking.

"He already thinks we're married."

"An abrupt change in perspective is good for humans."

"I don't think he needs the shock. Why do you really want to see him?"

"I want to ask him our position relative to land."

"So... it's serious."

"I only want to be aware of our options."

Faith felt rising apprehension, but she told herself she trusted him. He knew more about bearing a child from Asgard than she did.

When he returned, he began pacing and he looked like he wanted to hit something. He brought a few hot water bottles with him, which he handed off to her, as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. She hugged them to her stomach while he started packing their bags. The hot water provided a little comfort.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," he said in a studiously off-hand manner.

"Loki..."

He insisted, "It is nothing that I cannot handle, once we get to Africa. Until then, I will do everything in my power to see you safe and content."

"I don't need to go to a hospital, do I?"

"A human caregiver would not know how to treat this. You carry the child of a... of a god." He had a stubborn, proud look on his face.

"What did you ask the captain?"

"I sought a way to hasten our departure. It will be several days before this can happen." He looked at her with tenderness and worry. "I regret having to ask you to wait. I could hijack this ship and force it to faster travel, but it would avail not."

"You don't need to get thrown in jail."

"I've been avoiding that very thing since I arrived on Midgard." He looked distracted. "At sea, a jail is called a brig."

"Smart-ass." She asked in a lower voice, "I won't lose the baby, will I?"

He sat on the edge of the bed as if the strength holding him up left him all at once. He frowned and cast his eyes down. "Perhaps that would be for the best, but I do not wish it."

"I don't either."

She pulled him next to her. He was cold, as usual. It occurred to her that of course his child would be cold and big like him. It made sense. If she could put up with his humongous and chilly body, she could with the baby. She was a Slayer, after all, with a damned African demon inside her. What good was all that and super-human endurance if she couldn't get through this? No biggie, really.

Another chill swept from her core to seize her body in its grip. He turned to face her, his eyes filled with concern. She kissed him and said, "While we're waiting for a way off this tub, you can distract me."

He seemed appalled. "I can't imagine that sex will help."

"Always has in the past. It's my cure-all."

"The captain will think I'm lying about your health."

"Yeah?"

Turning it over in his head, he must have come to the conclusion that her suggestion was a good one. He remained clothed, however, so that she wouldn't be battered by cold from all directions. Several minutes later, she was quite warm and her troubles were only a small voice at the edge of her awareness.

Two days later, the steward knocked on the cabin door. Loki answered, stepping out into the passageway. A British military vessel was in range. They could evacuate his wife using the vessel's helicopters. Loki thanked him, and came back into the cabin.

"Are you feeling well enough for this?"

"Honest, there's nothing wrong with me besides a few chills. It's probably normal for women in Asgard. It's probably why they make their births magical."

He shifted his eyes away from hers, but said nothing as he gathered their bags.

"You know the doctors will want to examine me."

His lips closed in stern determination. "Tell them it is not permitted in our religion, that I am your physician, that you feel fine now that you are no longer on the cargo ship. Tell them anything, just so long as you tell them nothing."

She scrunched up her nose. "Why?"

"Because they will lock you away and treat you as a scientific specimen if they find out the true nature of the child you bear."

Faith was a lousy liar, but she could do it for the baby, she thought.

She briefly resented having her world turned upside down, then reasoned that was probably the way motherhood worked. Nothing could be the same. She stumbled into it, but then she made a choice and she needed to get used to it. She wasn't a flake like her mother. Faith had been responsible for others in the past.

At her age, with a demon inside her, she'd probably never have a chance to have another baby. The only reason she was pregnant was probably because Loki was a god. How often did gods come along? She was determined to keep the child and raise it to be safe and happy.

Loki had all but promised to leave her, but he hadn't left her yet. In fact, despite their travels and new experiences for Faith, he had been the most constant thing in her life. He had never really been unkind, except she found his withdrawals hard to take. His confidence in her had hardly ever waned. His presence had been steadying for her. Because of this, she trusted him, even if it wasn't entirely rational.

She knew she was in love, knew the things she loved about him, his ability to manage in all situations, his humor, his sense of adventure, his intelligence. Mostly, she loved the way he treated her, with respect and consideration. Sometime she felt they could be alone together and the whole world could go to Hell, they wouldn't need anything else. She didn't mind that feeling.

Plus, he was the only one who knew what was going on, besides Spike. She really didn't want to lose the baby.

Two days after Loki visited the captain, they were bundled into a basket and air-lifted into the helicopter. The captain didn't bother to see them off. Faith wanted to say goodbye to the crew, but they shrunk away from her.

"What did you tell them?" she whispered.

"Contagion and projectile vomiting may have been mentioned," he whispered back, his smile broad and open.

"Gee, thanks. If I throw up, make sure you're in the way."

"Of course. Any sacrifice for my ailing wife."

A person in the helicopter wanted to give her IV fluids, but otherwise hung back from her. Loki refused treatment for Faith. He demanded they be taken to shore as soon as possible. Fortunately, they were close enough to Gibraltar that the helicopter could make it, stopping at the carrier midway and loading on extra fuel tanks.

Loki and Faith stayed in the helicopter the whole time, again refusing an examination. Loki answered questions, lying all the time: they had a physician in Spain, they were going there directly to have her treated for a rare condition, examining her would only endanger her health, please hurry, she could take a turn for the worse. Faith tried to look miserable, but she didn’t need to -- the people on the helicopter believed all of Loki's lies.

She at least thanked them profusely for their help when the helicopter got to its destination. Loki looked like he had other things on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I'm not spoiling any Norse myths for those who may not have read them.


	18. In Africa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith and Loki get nearer their destination.

The helicopter crew rushed them around Customs in Gibraltar. Faith rushed Loki towards a waiting taxi and they sped away from the arriving ambulance and their frantic handlers.

Loki gave the cabdriver an address he pulled off the ship's computer. Through a series of cabs and on-foot cut-backs, they ended up at the Tunis ferry. Loki spoke to the ticket master, and through his usual persuasive magic, they got on board.

From out of a cab window, Tunis was a beautiful city, with U.N.-style skyscrapers, long stretches of beach, glittering plazas, and dark passageways that led to cloistered bazaars. Faith’s spirits lifted at the sight of curved arches, tile-encrusted walls, and fountains of leaping water.

The car dealership where they ended up was more chaotic than the ones Faith had seen in the States. It was a dirt lot with cars and trucks parked at every angle to each other. There was no way to tell which were old and which were new. There were no price signs propped or painted on the windshields. However, the usual shoal of men in loud suits surrounded them, eager to make a sale.

Loki haggled with one dealer, who brought him to a large shed. She waited at the side of the shed in the shade. She saw Loki hand over a wad of cash. The dealer gave him an envelope full of papers. She hoped they contained some kind of driver’s licenses.

Loki escorted her into the shed, to a white Land Rover with tinted, reinforced windows. The doors were so thick, Faith suspected the SUV might have been armored. It had an enlarged gas tank and a tank for water storage. It was more comfortable than she expected.

He relaxed a little after buying the truck. The dealer gave them a recommendation for a nearby restaurant, where Faith picked b'stilla off a picture on the wall. She would have sworn it was the best thing she’d ever eaten, flaky pastry stuffed with chicken, eggs, almonds and all kinds of spices. She also had warm mint tea, strong and sweet, with nuts in it.

Loki had the same. He smiled with pleasure and engaged the proprietors in conversation. His mood grew more expansive with each passing minute.

He led Faith to the end of the street, which revealed a clutch of open-air stalls. They reminded Faith of shops south of the border, with bright clothes, pottery, and bags spilling off wall displays and out of shelves. He bought white robes for both of them. Hers came down to her ankles, while his was like a long shirt. She didn't know why he bothered. Few of the people she saw wore robes. Some women wore scarves on their heads, but nobody's face was covered.

Loki had to navigate crazy traffic to get to a suggested supermarket. His hyper-alert and aggressive driving style was perfect for Tunis. She was sure they'd be stopped by local law enforcement, but he must have fit in with the other drivers.

At the store, he purchased supplies for their journey. Because he could make himself understood in any language, he had no trouble getting what he wanted. Faith could only stand and watch him in impressed bewilderment.

He had discussed buying guns and rifles with Faith. She argued that they didn't need to carry those kinds of weapons. He asked the car salesman about them, anyway. The salesman told him that guns would cause problems when they were stopped on the roads, as they would be.

The salesman did hook Loki up with a nimcha, a curved, long sword with an ornate brass grip. It came in a leather sheath that looked green, probably from age. She had no idea what he planned to do with the thing, but it was fine-looking. She always liked having knives around.

They were lucky. The road to Libya was open at the Tunisian border. And then, despite stops and checkpoints, Libya whirled by them. The towns showed evidence of violence, with buildings bombed or burned out. In a larger town, they encountered overturned buses and trucks that had been set on fire in the middle of the main street. Loki deftly avoided the obstacles and drove them straight out of the area without stopping. When they left the populated areas, Faith often drove.

Loki had a cover story. When stopped, he said they were civil engineers looking for sources of water. Faith dreaded the day anyone asked her a question about water or engineering. Loki seemed to have it covered, though.

He was moving fast again. It wasn't a problem for her. As soon as they were off the boat, the chills subsided. She still felt cold at her core, but the icy spikes that began to seize her body happened less. She got a chill once or twice a day, not as severe, not like someone was trying to refrigerate her from the uterus out.

She told this to Loki, who was obviously relieved. She half-joked about needing a midwife from Asgard, but Loki brushed off that suggestion. He snarled that he had known only one goddess of motherhood, and she could not help. Then he spoke again of the demon they were headed towards and his eyes filled with determination.

In Libya, they traveled across the Sahara. It made the desert around Little Cruci look like a paradise. She might have marveled at being in a sea of sand, far from places most tourists traveled. Instead, being cooped up in a truck with more room for water and fuel than people made her irritable. The truck got caught in sand drifts, and only her strength combined with Loki's allowed them to avoid delays. The paved road got covered by sand, making its surface impossible to see. They also had to constantly watch for armed political factions or bandits.

Despite trying to avoid people, they still had to negotiate the rituals of meeting the leaders of small towns or outposts, attempting cultural exchange, and arranging for travel permits. They tried to stay out of towns, but once in, rules of hospitality meant they found themselves crammed into spaces far too small for Loki. In sparsely-populated areas, Faith would usually be segregated with the females and younger boys, who spoke little English. Loki would converse with the men until he arrived at the bed he would share with Faith. Neither of them could sleep.

When they were alone in the desert, they were able to rest in the warm sand at night without fear of snakes or scorpions, infrequent at that time of year. The sand dunes made a cradling hand that fit to her shape and helped distribute Loki's weight when they were joined. He was more at ease, however, when they moved into rockier areas and they had to lie on top of the Land Rover, where there might be a breeze.

Unfortunately, wind often meant sandstorms.

The first time they got caught in a sandstorm, they saw a wall of dust from horizon to horizon barreling towards them. It only took minutes for it to swallow the truck. They almost didn't have time to secure the Land Rover.

They remained closed in darkness for more than an hour while the wind raged and tore at the truck. The noise made Loki glance around wildly. She asked him to get in the crowded back seat with her and tell her a story, hoping that would give him something else to think about. One of the things she loved about him was his storytelling. It made her feel special that he took the time, and the way he told stories was always entertaining.

"I will tell you about the Tesseract and how it came to Earth.

"The humans who first worshiped the gods of Asgard were primitives, scrabbling in the dark and dirt for their existence. This storm would have been cleansing to them, so mired in filth and disease were they, in Northern Europe as it is now.

"Into their midst came Thor. At the time, the Northlands were the preferred hunting grounds in Midgard for the god and his childhood retinue. Thor was stronger than any human, but as simple-minded, as simply pleased, as they. Humans did not recognize him as a god, but merely as a strong boy, though larger than their tallest men.

"By this time, Thor had recently received Mjolnir, his hammer, the great weapon that calls down the storm." Loki got an annoyed look on his face, and complained, "Odin had enchanted the hammer, supposedly to be used only by those worthy of wielding it. As an odd coincidence, Thor was able to pick it up, and thus to claim it as his own."

"What does this have to do with the test rat?"

"Tesseract."

"Yeah, that."

"To my original story ... but first let me add that in addition to hunting, Thor used Mjolnir to drive the remaining frost giants and trolls from Midgard, thus earning him even more human admiration.” He sighed.

"I made my own travels in those days, to the lands of the Vanir, the elves, the dwarves, and even the giants. I was determined to learn their ways, to make myself a better ruler. I would have gone to Thor's Midgardian Northlands to demonstrate to Thor the stupidity of the humans, a dullness that had corrupted him and his coterie, but in truth I could not bear to spend time in the North. I'd rather to Africa, to be far away from Thor and his brutes, to the Nile, one of your so-called "cradles of civilization," a land of refined behavior and ideas."

"You didn't go to school?" No wonder he wasn't stuck up about her lack of education.

"Children were given lessons in Asgard by trainers during three of the four seasons. We were permitted part of one season to pursue adventure, as was deemed a natural part of childhood, at least, for boys.

"And at the inception of this tale, Thor and I made to court in Asgard to attend feasts to mark the return to our studies. He boasted mightily of the feats of the Norse, of their courage, their strength, their ability to withstand hardship. I laughed at these men who lived in squalor and cavorted like animals, who herded reindeer with tiny sticks, who only roused themselves to battle when invaders threatened their shores. I said the people of the Pharaoh had better social organization, more leisure to develop music and literature, more complex worldviews with more to contribute to Midgard. Thor said the Egyptians were cowards who had proxies fight their battles, whose rulers made play they were descended from gods, pairing brother to sister in contempt for all decency.

"Thor in private then made me a wager. We would present the same boon to both the Norse and the Egyptians, to see which society would make the best use of it. I agreed, and said I would pick the offering, to be delivered during our winter holiday. We decided that Fandral, a classmate of mine, known to be fair, to enjoy a challenge, and to keep a secret, would pick the winner."

"How old were you in this story?"

"Age..." he replied in a faraway voice. "Perhaps the equivalent of eight as calculated in your years."

Eight. Faith had had an action-packed life, but nothing like that.

"As I have told you, Odin-king keeps a vault in which he stores the treasures of the Nine Realms and beyond, items of great power which nevertheless are not used for their intended purposes, but sit gathering dust. He keeps them only so those outside Asgard cannot increase their strength and threaten the Realm Eternal. Each of our years, he would bring me and Thor to the vault to instruct us regarding the items there and the right of the Aesir to maintain the peace.

“I understand now that the date of this tour corresponded with my arrival in Asgard, which was then celebrated as the day of my birth. He would show us this plunder and impress upon me and Thor that we were fated to be kings. I believed him, believed for a long time that I had as good a chance as Thor to be a king in Asgard. At this time in my youth, however, that belief had begun to grow thin, for I knew that Odin favored Thor over me. I feared he would make Thor king no matter how I strove to prove myself to him. But I still strove."

The wind roared outside the Land Rover, a mournful sound. Faith's eyes had adjusted to the dark. She saw Loki's eyes glistening in the windows reflection. His face appeared tired and brooding. His hands were folded in his lap. She put her hand over his and applied a slight pressure to encourage him to continue. He took her hand in one of his, ran the other hand over his cheeks, and began again.

"We were fools to wager on humans, whose actions are maddening in all circumstances. One day, they bow down to you, the next, they burn you in effigy and kill all those who worshiped you. To expect any rational behavior of humans was absurd."

"So I've heard you say."

"Do you not agree?"

She made a wry smile. She had never been a big fan of humans, but she _was_ one of them.

Loki continued, "I thought to impress the humans with wonders the like of which they had never seen and would not likely see again. During our annual visit to the vault, I closely questioned the All-Father on the objects kept there. Later, I descended to the vault to remove one of the treasures. At the time, there were no guards. It was unthinkable that anyone would breach the vault at the heart of the palace, protected by Odin himself. But I calculated and dared, and came away with the Tesseract, a small, blue cube that shines with workings of immense power, to destroy or make universes, to split time and distance, to alter consciousness. I tossed it in a leather satchel, placed it under my cloak, and strolled out of the vault with no-one the wiser. I was confident its loss would not be discovered for the duration of the winter festivals, at the least.

"And so to Midgard Thor, Fandral and I traveled on Thor's cart pulled by the goats, Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr. We went first to Egypt. I was acquainted with the young Pharaoh, charming Amenhotep, who with his beautiful first wife, Nefertiti, welcomed our small company and bade us stay. Amenhotep was educated and cultured, interested in astronomy and the building arts, striving to live up to the legacy of his father, who built a canal between the Nile and the Red Sea, striving to be a statesman and ruler of a vast empire.

"Fandral was enchanted by the maidens in the Pharaoh's court. Thor, however, grew restless amidst the finery of the palace. Therefore, during the evening meal, I drew from my cloak the leather bag and passed it to the Pharaoh, stating the object within would give him a guide or a portent.

"He opened the bag to gaze upon the Tesseract, raised his eyes to the ceiling, and declared to all that there was but one god. He declared that thenceforth, all would worship his one god, the Aten. He started that very evening to plan a city to honor that god.

"While it was an outcome I did not anticipate -- the Tesseract touches every person differently -- I was certain that the extravagant actions of Amenhotep, who later called himself Akhenaten, would win the wager.

"Thor, meanwhile, had taken the bag from Amenhotep and glimpsed its contents. In confidence, while Fandral was distracted, he informed me that he was shocked that I had stolen it. We had dared many deeds and broken many rules, but to take such a thing against Odin's will was without precedent.

"I explained that we were merely borrowing it and would return it before Odin discovered it missing. We needed something wondrous to show the humans, did we not? It was all in service of a little fun. Of course, I pointed out that the wager had been his idea.

"Thor was determined then to make for the Nordic lands and conclude our business. We went to a village in Scandinavia, a trading center on the sea that had recently seen the introduction of bronze knives and axes. In pursuit of progress, the Norse had either convinced or more likely induced the Southern bearer of the weapons to teach them how to make such items.

"Thor was greeted as a great friend and we were shown into a longhouse. This was a barn with livestock at one end, a workshop at the other, and human inhabitants sleeping in the middle around a great fire. There was only the one door to lead the animals in and out, a hole in the roof that allowed as much moisture in as smoke out, and no windows. The stench was staggering.

"A feast was laid in honor of Thor's visit. At the feast, Thor handed the leather satchel to the chieftain and invited him to look inside.

"The simpleton took one look in the bag, then raised his head and stared at Thor in awe. He declared that Thor was a god. He announced this revelation to the entire congregation in the hovel and asked Thor to regale them with a tale of his deeds, which Thor did gladly, while a groveler scratched drawings of Thor's hammer on a stone.

"Thus was a religion and its mythology born. And thus, Thor won our bet, for how could Fandral not reward the group that made Fandral a god, as well?"

"And you."

He frowned a little, and continued. "Soon the merriment was interrupted by a visit from Hogan, a companion of Thor. He came to warn us of the impending visit of Odin, who had discovered that the Tesseract was missing. I advised Thor, Fandral and Hogan to leave, that I would take care of the matter. And leave they did, for Odin's wrath is terrible to behold, and worse to experience."

In the increasing light, Faith could see the sadness in Loki's face. "Wow, two religions created in two days. Don't think I'd want to handle the Tesseract."

He smiled at her with a wan expression. "It does more than convert credulous humans to religious faith, but yes, you've no need to interact with the Tesseract."

"What happened with Odin?"

"I was quicker than he and did not meet him. I sealed the bag with runes so the villagers could not open it and hid it in a dimensional pocket within the building. I told the villagers to flee with their chieftain whose wisdom had revealed the gods to them, as a jealous god would soon visit and he would not be pleased to find competition. I then spirited myself away. I was sure Odin would descend with his roar and stare to cow them all into submission, but without the witness of the one who had seen the blue object, no tale could be verified.

"I must have been correct, for Odin returned to Asgard suspicious of his sons, but with no proof of the Tesseract's location. The mortals he spoke to swore they had not seen it, but they had seen the gods. Odin did not find it curious that he was now worshiped on Midgard as a god.

"Thor alone knew that I had removed the Tesseract. Heimdall and thus Odin could not have known, as it was in the bag the whole time."

"Who is Heimdall, again?" The name was familiar.

"Gatekeeper to Asgard. He has far vision. Were there no sandstorm, he could see our Land Rover and perhaps hear our talk."

"Really?" She looked up nervously.

"One gets used to it, and I long ago learned to evade his gaze. At the time of my story, his instructions were to turn his eyes from the royal family, as a matter of respect. Odin rescinded this order upon his return that night, and thus, I did not return for the Tesseract."

"Odin never found it?"

"Not until it was uncovered during your World War II by those of Midgard in what had been the ruin of a Norse temple."

"Thor never told Odin about it, then."

"Thor and his two companions returned later that evening, bringing game with them and telling of a hunt. They did not gainsay my tale of visiting the Nile and assisting my friends, the Pharaoh and his wife, with the management of their kingdom. They volunteered no further information.

"Thenceforth, however, Odin posted Einherjar to the treasure room and, not content with that, he created The Destroyer to further protect his trinkets."

"Destroyer? Over-compensating?"

"Take care with your words," Loki advised, looking upward slightly, before he returned his eyes to her. "The Destroyer was a powerful creation, completely loyal to the king. It was sent by Asgard to deal with Thor's rebellion against the throne. This is not common knowledge in Midgard."

Faith certainly hadn't heard it, but she had something else on her mind. "I've noticed that a lot of your stories end with people getting something out of it, but with you getting bupkis."

Loki gave her a searching look. "I'd never thought of that, but it may be thus. My lady is most perceptive."

"All you lost this time was a bet, right?"

Loki looked at his hands. "Not only a bet. Fandral, who I considered my friend, became closer to Thor. They were alike in temperament, boastful and overtly amorous of maidens fair.

"Thor returned less to Midgard after that. He was content enough that the humans worshiped him, but it made them unworthy of companionship in his eyes. Thor was the god most revered by them, for his outsized personality. They believed he offered protection when what he really sought was sport. He did not save the humans from the atrocities they thoughtlessly visited upon the land and its creatures, and more thoughtfully and viciously upon each other. But because he did not smite them or bellow at them in anger, because he laughed at their idiocies, they believed he loved them. It was perhaps better for the humans that he stayed away; he would only have led them into danger."

Loki's voice became quieter, almost hoarse. "This was also the last time Thor fully trusted me. Not that some trust didn't remain, and he would listen when he wanted a thing to go his way or when he saw no other action but what I presented to him. But in our everyday dealings, he openly and freely called me a liar or a fomenter of trouble, ignoring his own part in all that transpired."

Faith burst out, "Way to kill someone's self-esteem! I know what that's like: 'slut,' 'coked-up banger,' 'crazy bitch.' You start to believe it, especially if nobody is there to tell you different. Being told you're bad all the time, people expecting you to be that way: I can tell you in full detail what that's like."

"Yes?" He turned to her, his eyes bright with expectation.

"It sucks."

He looked puzzled, like he was waiting for more. Then he let out a mirthless laugh. "Yes, it sucks."

Faith felt odd asking, but it had been bothering her. "I know I asked this once, but Thor's your brother, right?"

Loki looked out the window at the rapidly clearing sky. "He is not my brother. He never was."

"So you were two princes who, what, just happened to be friends?"

"We are not friends, either."

"Is Odin your father?"

Loki seemed to close even more into himself. "Odin stole me from a rival when I was but a babe and thought to hold me as a hostage for peace. He raised me as his own, perhaps thinking ... I am not sure what he thought, perhaps that I would love him more had I reason to call him father, for my true father was his bitter enemy. Odin never told me of my origins. Yet I always felt different, for I was always treated differently by almost everyone in Asgard, as alien to Odin and inferior to Thor. I learned the truth by chance, after Odin cast Thor out, before I became king upon Odin's retreat from the realm. This all happened within one of your Earth days."

Faith was stunned. "Damn, that's awful. I mean, that's really horrible."

He looked down at her, a sort-of grim glee in his face, like he was on the verge of losing his mind. "Do you think so? For the tale does worsen. When I discovered what I was, Odin told me my true father had, in fact, tried to kill me as an infant, offering me to his gods for a victory against Asgard. When I met my true father, I found he cared not that I lived, that he had renounced all ties to me, and yet, he would use me as his tool to defeat Odin."

Faith was appalled. "I'm so sorry," was all she could think to say.

Loki all but murmured into his chest. "For what have you to be sorry? You alone have done me no ill."

"Yeah, but I know what it's like, to have a lousy dad, not like mine reaches the total fail levels yours do."

"I will be a better father to our child," Loki said with a solemn face and a set jaw.

"If you stay around..."

He replied with simple sincerity, "It is true that my interests may carry me throughout the realms, but I will always be a part of your lives. I give you my word."

Always. Faith knew that giving his word was serious, from what Spike told her. Still, she couldn't picture a normal family life with Loki. She wondered how much he would keep in touch. She also worried that Loki only wanted to keep in touch because of the child. But he included her in his promise.

"If Odin's not your dad, do you have another family somewhere?"

"I know not if any live." He released her hand and changed the subject. "The wind dies. We must make haste."

The storm cleared as suddenly as it started. Loki opened the door and checked the truck for damage. Faith watched him, turning over in her mind the things he told her. He looked no different, perhaps a little more subdued, as he strode around the vehicle, casually lifting it to check the gas tanks, brushing away sand where it had accumulated. He was the picture of calm concentration.

Faith hugged herself against a sudden internal chill and prepared to drive in the remaining daylight. The GPS showed them close to Chad. She hoped she could still see the road markers and the little flags that warned of landmines. Loki had a sense for mines, which had probably saved them from severe damage a few times. She wondered if he could hear them.

Like her, Loki made few complaints about the heat, but tried to stay out of it in the day. Cold season or not, the extremes in the Sahara could kill the unprepared.

She had read Giles' brief notes in the Watcher's files about Buffy's search for the origins of the first Slayer. Buffy hadn't actually met the demon Loki was looking for. She'd met the shadow men. Except for Buffy learning about the first Slayer, Faith wasn't sure why Spike said the experience stayed with Buffy.

Faith was more concerned with the mystery demon. She didn't want Loki to put himself at risk for whatever he had in mind, which he still wouldn't fully share with her. But they had to get through the desert before they even met the demon, so she focused on that.

Once he'd given his word, his talks with the baby became more personal. He swore he would be a good father, saying they would travel the realms together, he hoped with Faith. She should have been glad, but what he said made her melancholy sometimes. He seemed so desperate for a family. Now that she knew about his background, she thought she knew why. But she also knew that life was never as perfect as you wanted it to be. You were lucky when you could avoid trouble.

They stayed to the road as best they could. It disappeared for long stretches under the sand. Finally, they came to the border crossing between Libya and Chad. The cross point was nothing more than uniformed soldiers sitting in the shade of a truck near a sign.

Despite Loki's efforts at smoothing things along, the paperwork didn't satisfy the Libyan soldiers. The region had been in turmoil and various factions were fighting in the desert. And despite her robe, Faith was more obviously pregnant. The soldiers looked upon her with outright hostility.

Loki was not in a mood to undergo the power struggle the commander obviously had in mind, so he forced the issue of the correctness of their papers. He was so insistent, they let Faith and him cross, the leader muttering warnings.

Faith and Loki got into Chad with no trouble, as there were no border agents from Chad visible. However, once across, a light truck filled with men came up behind them on the road. They didn't expect any questions about their stay in Chad, so Loki, who was driving at that point, tried to keep as much distance between the trucks as possible. Eventually, the light truck dropped out of sight.

The sheets of glittering sand interspersed with rocks gradually became steps of rugged stone. Loki shifted to four-wheel drive to ascend the uneven, hard slopes. All around them, the flat landscape filled with columns of wind-worn volcanic rock. It looked as if ponderous, black giants were rising out of the rocks to march upon the road. Faith found it eerie.

When they reached the top of a bumpy stone hill, they saw the truck that had been following them was now ahead of them on the road. Loki became very angry and started the truck down the small slope to reach the other truck. Its occupants must have been unnerved by his direct action, as they fled down the road ahead of the Land Rover. Loki didn't let up his pursuit.

They entered a pass with rock arches growing out of giant boulders along the hills. It was like driving through a Salvador Dali painting, arches like black spider legs springing out of walls. The other truck lay in wait for them behind an arch.

Loki stopped the Land Rover and jumped out to confront their followers as if they were no more than flies in his path. They had rifles, but this didn't deter Loki's rapid advance on them. He was in a full rage. He had the curved sword he bought, and swatted a stray bullet away from his thigh. The blade blew apart. Before it did, however, Loki pounced on their pursuers like a cheetah. Faith saw him fall into the group of men and begin to throttle them.

Her attention was distracted by a man who came up behind their truck on the passenger side. She sat still until he stepped in front of the door. He smiled like the cartoon cat that cornered the mouse. Faith pushed the door open and knocked him to the ground. She jumped out and gave him a swift kick to the head, just enough to put him of out commission. He stopped moving.

She looked up to see Loki furiously rounding on the last person from the truck. The others were scattered and immobile on the ground. He grabbed what remained of the sword. She could tell he meant to murder someone.

She yelled, "Loki," hoping to make him stop his rampage. It wasn't until she was near him and in reach of danger that he paid attention to her and slowed his pace. The last man was able to break and run into the rocky landscape. Faith grabbed Loki's arm and stopped him from following.

"Let him go."

"These men would have killed us or, at best, taken us hostage," he argued.

"So tie them up and let their friend or someone else find them later," she insisted. "Don't become a killer now."

"These men would be killers, without regret. Why let them live?"

"Because it is wrong to hurt them." She felt as strange saying it as when she first mocked Buffy, but she knew it was true. "Look, I'm mad enough to finish them, too. But they are weaker than us, and now they're helpless. We should let them go."

Loki broke free from her grasp in frustration, but it was only to tie the men up with rope from their truck. He even left them in the shade of the arch, but it was only a temporary reprieve from the sun and sand.

He strode back to the Land Rover. Faith dug how tall he stood, how confident he looked, even when angry, how in control he acted.

He stopped at the body of the man she had knocked out and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and said, "He'll live." Loki threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the group of bound men, dropping him on top of them.

Faith turned away from the pile of bodies and saw a large pond beyond the arch, hidden between massive boulders. Several camels sat on the beach in the shade of the boulders. One stood in the water, drinking. She pointed this out to Loki, who told her riding a camel would be uncomfortable for her and these were probably wild, anyway.

"You've ridden camels before?"

"Of course."

She got into the passenger seat of the Land Rover, which was becoming harder to do. She turned to Loki and said, "Thanks for listening to me."

"For your pleasure, I can spare their meaningless lives."

"That's all I ask." She flashed a big smile, and they continued their journey through the eroded rocks and dusty passages.

Eventually, the landscape yielded up wiry bushes and palm trees among the rocks. They made camp at a tiny oasis, marked by a few trees that Faith couldn't identify and a deep well.

As they bedded down, she asked, "How old are you?"

"I am young still." He looked at her with eyes that were ancient and reflected infinite sorrow.

"In mortal years."

"Mortal years are meaningless for one such as I. I am young in the rendering of Asgard."

"You don't seem that young."

"I've lived thousands of years. And all things are permitted the gods, at the earliest of ages." He looked thoughtful. "Humans have not progressed far despite their desperate scramble for time. Look about you. These people would be better off had I ruled. They wouldn't fight each other, or hold themselves apart from those more like themselves than they will admit. I would assure their energies were harnessed to help each other. I would build a prosperous peace for them."

"That never seems to work out, though. These people have been breaking away from dictators, which is why things are so messed up now." Faith rarely watched the news, but Giles used to, and he liked to talk about what was happening.

"Your dictators seek gain for themselves and their families in alignment with the values of this realm. I do not seek the petty prizes they value. I seek only the satisfaction of ruling well."

"It's not that easy. You've got tribes and regions and different cultures and religions. That's what's happening here, and a lack of things like water and food, so everyone fights over them. You can't change that overnight."

"In fact, I could. But in this, you and my erstwhile family are agreed."

"I don't even know your family. Don't confuse me with them."

He gave her another serious look. "This is true. You are here, by my side, when they let me fall and called the only one who searched for me mad."

She hadn't expected him to bring up his suicide attempt. She wanted to be careful about what she said, but all she could think of was, "Don't fall again, Loki. I don't want you to. And if you ever feel you want to, talk to me first. I don't know if I could help, but let me try."

He said in a bitter whisper, "Thor could have helped me. Odin could have, too. They have means of flight and ties to messengers. They chose not to use them. I knew they wouldn’t, and still I hoped."

"I'm sorry."

He smiled at her. "Again I say, you have nothing for which to be sorry." Loki looked into the small grove of trees. "In the end, I chose to live. Would it have been better had I chosen to die? That is what they wanted, after all - an ignoble death, a surrender to my nature, a weak failure. But no, I chose to live."

She put her hand on his chest, over his heart. "I know you can go it alone if you have to. But you don't have to now. You've got me."

His hand covered hers. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

The next day, the armies of stone men spewed from the massive cliff faces had broken into individual stone soldiers standing alone and far apart from each other, like the main body had died off as they marched into the desert. They looked like giant phallic symbols, sticking straight out of the land everywhere she looked. She would have laughed if it didn’t make her skin crawl. It was like the whole landscape was saying it hated women.

Two days later, they came to a huge, smooth, round rock that looked as if it had been placed on the ground by a giant. It stood alone in a shallow well of sand. Halfway up the vast face of the rock was a long, low slit, the broad mouth of a cave. The shape reminded Faith of a Pac-man getting ready to gulp down a ghost.

They began the climb to the ledge and the cave's entrance.

Normally, she could have scrambled to the top without breaking a sweat. Because she was carrying a big baby, climbing the rock was difficult, even with Loki's help. Her balance was off.

Loki went ahead, surefooted. He took her hand to pull her up. She knew he felt it was important for her to be with him, and she would have rather stayed with him than remain her own in some town were the people wouldn't know what to do with her or might not have facilities to help her.

She thought about the few people she really knew well. She had only told Spike that she was pregnant, and that was probably because she had just found out and was in shock. Spike was skeptical about the whole thing, but he stood by her.

She had never once considered telling the other people she knew. She thought, "You're supposed to share good news with friends, but they aren't really those kinds of friends, the kind you hang with." She expected they would think the worst of her.

Making bad decisions -- that was what she was known for. Here she was on the surface of what might as well be Mars looking for a demon that made other demons crap their pants, with a god who was becoming more unhinged by the day trying to find him. She still wasn't sure why Loki needed this demon. She doubted he wanted to reconcile with Odin, who had lied to him about so many things. But she knew lots of guys felt like they needed to prove things to their fathers, if they weren’t trying to be their fathers. Maybe that was the stock home deal Spike mentioned.

Anyway, Loki was with her and had been with her. He hadn't left. Life wasn't half bad with him when he relaxed a little. He was looking after her, even if he put her in this spot, hanging off a rock in stifling heat, robes tied up past her bulging stomach so she could move. And yet, she only felt exposed because she wasn't carrying heavy weapons. She just had a water bottle, a flashlight, and a knife.

Loki brought nothing. He must have had a lot of confidence in his ability to reason with this demon. Or maybe she was going to watch him get himself killed, fighting like Spike did. She believed in his abilities, but she had to be realistic. Maybe he’d been so open about his family and so ready to make promises because he felt he was close to the end.

Halfway up to the cave, Faith saw a sandstorm at the horizon, moving in quickly. She didn't think they could make it back to the truck or up to the cave before the storm overtook them. She felt very tired.

Above them three goats appeared on the ledge that formed the floor of the cave. She faltered and Loki came back to get her. When she looked back at the ledge, three men stood there in robes of black, gray and white. They carried staffs like shepherds. One pointed his staff towards the sandstorm, halting its progress. When she looked at the ledge again, the three men were gone.

Loki turned to her and said in a carefully neutral voice, like he rehearsed it, "I have asked much of you. I confess at times I am driven by ambition, but never doubt that I love you."

Faith felt uneasy. "Why would I doubt it?"

He looked flustered, as if he hadn't expected the question. "I... I have given you reason in the past."

"But not now, right?"

"No. Not now."

"You never apologized before." He had never said he loved her, either. Maybe it meant he really was afraid.

"I have dragged you across the sea and the desert, when you should have been sitting in comfort in our home, attended by healers and servants."

"Yeah, but you know I'd rather be with you."

His eyes became round, but she couldn’t tell if it was fear or hopelessness she saw there. “I do know that.”

He helped her to the ledge. They ran to the cave mouth and as far into the cave as they could. The sandstorm descended with a roar and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters need major overhaul, so updates will be much slower.


	19. Lost in Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Faith meet a powerful entity.

The sandstorm blasted the air just feet from Loki and Faith, but they did not hear it. Instead, a low hum arose from the rocks around them, as if the stones were monks warming up to sing a hymn. The sound caused Faith’s body to vibrate as the humming grew louder.

Three men in white robes appeared before them. The men emitted a soft, white light, enough to illuminate twenty feet around them. The cave fell into blackness outside their dome of light, the ceiling climbing higher, the sides expanding out. The cave was so vast it seemed infinite.

One of the men spoke. "Unataka mungu?"

"Mimi nataka mungu," Loki replied.

"What are they saying?"

"They want to know if we are looking for god."

"Where are their pamphlets?" Faith felt giddy, probably because of the climbing. The whole situation seemed ridiculous to her.

One of the men looked at her nude legs with disdain. She hastily lowered her robe.

"Mwanamke ni wewe?"

"Mwanamke watatembelea pia."

"I feel weird when I can't understand things."

"They want to know if you are mine."

"Yeah, that feels weird, too."

"I told them you are."

Figured.

"Tafadhali kutuonyesha njia. I just asked them to bring us to their god."

"Yeye aliona ni hivyo." The three figures made a stately turn and proceeded further into the cave. Loki followed with a confident gait. Faith trailed reluctantly behind.

They stayed near the cave wall. The ground was smooth and even. Where the light fell on the wall, Faith could see simple but strong drawings of animals and people. The rock paintings seemed ancient. Loki barely noticed them, walking in his nothing-concerns-me, you-are-all-peasants manner.

"Wewe ni mbali kutoka nyumbani."

"Nyumba yetu ni kila mahali."

"They are speaking Swahili. They are far from the region where the language predominates, but they say they can be anywhere."

"Thanks for the 411. Demon languages were never my strong suit."

"Swahili is a human language. They were human, not demon."

"Come on. I saw them change shape and now they're glowing."

"They _were_ human. They no longer are."

"Some kind of vampires?" Faith wished she'd remembered a stake.

"More like you, I'd say."

"Tour guides?"

Loki laughed. "Humans invested with supernatural powers."

"I don't change shape."

"Slayers may have untapped powers, but no time to discover them."

"These are the shadow men that Buffy met, aren't they?"

"I believe they are."

"And their god is the demon who gave Spike his soul."

"He may indeed be a god, and not a demon."

"Swell."

"You should let me talk to him."

"Works for me."

They walked for several minutes. The paintings gave way to rock art deeply carved into the stone wall. The shapes became more bizarre-looking as they went deeper into the cave: men with space helmets, giants with lines all over their bodies, and eventually, bulls with enormous horns. She stopped gawping when the cave floor sloped abruptly down. She had to concentrate to maintain her balance. Loki put his arm around her waist to give her support.

Five more minutes brought them to roughly carved, steep stairs that hastened the descent. The cave was unnaturally still, with no sounds of water or wind or animals. Their footsteps didn't even echo off the walls. All the markers that would direct the senses were gone. It was now so dark the light of the three men was almost swallowed by the surrounding black.

Faith hoped she and Loki would be able to find their way out again. Her fight instinct was always on, but her dormant flight instinct was beginning to flash red, especially when she thought of the baby.

Loki had stopped supporting her back, but held her hand in a tight grip. She wasn't sure if this annoyed her or reassured her. He seemed tense in general, hyper-alert.

Meanwhile, the shadow men glided like ghosts in front of them.

They finally reached the bottom of the steps. The tallest of the shadow men said, "He will meet you here." The three men disappeared, leaving Loki and Faith in complete darkness, so dark it felt like her soul was being sucked out of her body, like the only sane reaction was panic, and she’d never been afraid of the dark. Loki moved closer to her and put his arm around her. He was trembling slightly. She hoped it was excitement and not terror.

A rumbling voice boomed out of the walls, "Why have you come?" The voice's low insistence rippled through Faith's body and caused her teeth to knock together. It made her think of the Wizard of Oz, minus the showy fire.

Faith was disoriented in the dark, but she felt Loki stand taller beside her. He said in the confident voice of a salesman, "We have traveled far to meet you. May we see your face?" While he sounded at ease and even amused, when he dropped his arm to hold her hand in a death grip, she could feel his pulse racing.

"It would please you more to see my avatar," the creature roared around them.

A claustrophobic circle of light surrounded them, revealing a black-robed figure, hood pulled low over its face. The figure was completely covered, so that no skin showed. It was as tall as Loki, human in shape but bulkier, like it was hewed from the stone surrounding them. The place where its face would have been was made of the darkness that remained outside the circle of light. Its eyes were black spaces embedded with stars, as if they were portals to space. Faith felt chilled looking at it.

The creature boomed at Loki, "Should I not toss you into the abyss to drift forever?"

Loki's body shivered next to her, probably involuntary, but he never stopped staring at the creature, nor did his smile falter. "You will not profit from my loss."

The thing hissed a laugh, which turned into a hollow sound ringing with disinterest and death.

Loki must have taken that as his cue. "I seek the return of something stolen from me."

"You believe I can return this stolen thing?"

"You returned the soul to a vampire, so... yes."

"You have a soul, and a choice."

Faith murmured, "Well, that clears that up."

The creature continued, "You are aware of the price the vampire paid?"

"I am prepared to pay it, for this item is dear to me."

"And if not, you have brought a gift, a Slayer."

Faith felt her back go up. She was nobody's gift. She glanced over at Loki. He continued to face straight ahead, showing no reaction. When the demon mentioned her, his grip on her hand tightened, but on the surface, he was placid.

"She has traveled with me to seek your knowledge, mighty one," Loki answered, holding himself in a deferential pose.

Faith wondered why Loki was showing respect to this demon when he dissed or played every other demon he'd met. It wasn't as if he couldn't take this guy, bulky as he was.

"And if I wish the Slayer to be your champion and fight in your stead?"

"I... she is a woman. She cannot fight my battles." Loki sounded affronted.

"I would see her fight and use her gifts."

Loki's voice became smooth and assuring. "Throughout our voyage, her only words were of your splendor and generosity. Your wisdom would be the greatest gift to her."

"If this is true, then she will agree to remain with me." The being seemed to address Faith, though it remained motionless. "Have you come here for me?"

Loki jumped into the conversation, "Yes, yes, it is true."

"And will you stay with me forever?" it still spoke to Faith.

Loki answered, "It would be our honor."

"What?" Faith exclaimed. She felt awareness hit her in the head and sink through her body like a block of ice. Loki brought her to use as a bargaining piece. Of course he had. It was what he had always done.

Shame and anger swept through her, caused by the creature's assumption that she was a gift, by Loki's failure to deny it, by his stupid male superiority that insisted he fight while she suck it up on the sidelines, by the fact that his lies were as outrageous as any others she'd heard him tell. She felt dizzy, like she was going to throw up.

The creature returned its voice to Loki and said in a hostile tone, "You need not stay."

"But I, ah, serve her."

"Then you would fight for her."

"If I must. I came to fight for my own cause, however."

The creature mused, "Do you know what I am capable of?"

"I do, but I am not afraid."

"We shall see."

Faith never saw the creature move, but Loki fell to the ground, clutching his head, making strangled noises, gurgling like he couldn't talk, his eyes bulging as if his head was going to burst. As soon as Faith knelt next to Loki, however, the creature stopped whatever it was doing.

Loki had tears in his eyes and his trembling was visible, but he managed to stand, brushing off Faith's help. He faced the creature with his chest out, full of fierce bravado. Faith was pretty proud of him, even if he was being stupid. Her sense of betrayal lessened.

The creature's voice pounded in Faith's head as it said to Loki, "Let your opponent be your fear."

They were swept into total darkness again. Faith reached for Loki, but he was gone. She could hear him gasping in the dark, as if momentarily panicked. Then he said tentatively, "Faith?" She said his name, but he asked again in a softer voice, "Are you there, Faith? Please answer me." She called to him, but he only yelled louder, "Faith?"

After a few moments, Loki remarked with a cold intensity, "This has less power to intimidate me than you think. I've been here before. It is a state I can withstand. But consider my lady. She has done you no harm. She has asked nothing of you. Do not leave her in this emptiness. As she has traveled with me, so we should be reunited."

She saw Loki through the darkness. A large glass box like a room or cell materialized around him. There was a plain chair and a tiny table, but nothing else. The room was pulsing with a light so bright, she had to cover her eyes and squint to look at it.

Loki glanced around wildly, backing into a corner, hair swirling around his shoulders. Then he visibly got a grip on himself, taking a deep breath. He walked calmly to the chair, sat down, folded his hands on his lap, and closed his eyes. He stated in measured words, "I am not a child, afraid of the dark, to be sent to his room, there to be forgotten." Despite his angry words, his hands clutched each other so tightly they were turning white. His face seemed frozen in concentrated misery, jaw set, teeth clenched. She was afraid he'd break something. His eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids.

He recited in a low voice, "This, too, have I survived. It is harder for me to remain ignorant of how my lady fares."

The voice boomed, "Then see your future."

The box dissolved in dark smoke. Through it, Faith heard Loki's curses, then an ear-piercing scream. She was frantic to get to him.

As soon as she formed that thought, she was next to him. They were under a sliver of light. It reminded Faith of an old Star Trek show where Kirk and Spock were on an alien stage, forced to perform for the so-called gods. It wasn't very original.

In this case, however, there was no lute music or jumping around in togas. Loki was tied to a jagged rock with strong leather rope. She pulled at it, but it was tough as iron and wouldn't budge. She couldn't even loosen it enough to give him space to move.

Then she noticed a large snake coiled over his head. The snake had a vague diamond pattern on its body that looked like it had been rubbed with sand. It had horns above each of its eyes, making it look like a devil. Its jaws were pried open and dripped venom. The poison fell on Loki's face, which contorted in horror as he cried out.

Faith swiped at the viper with her flashlight, but it was fast enough to evade each attempted hit.

"Look for a bowl," he gasped.

She found a wide, shallow bowl of black stone next to his head. "Good call," she said. Seizing the heavy vessel in both hands, she tried to hit the snake with the broad side of the bowl, but the snake disappeared, only to rematerialize, its venom still very real.

"Use the bowl to capture the poison," Loki panted.

"On it," Faith replied, hurling the bowl into place under the weaving snake. It was hard work following the snake's movements, catching the venom, but she managed to get every drop.

Eventually, the bowl filled and she had to move it aside to toss the venom out. She tried to be as quick as she could, but the venom fell and Loki writhed in agony. His face swelled and a bleeding ulcer burned on his cheek. Tears streamed out of his eyes, which he kept tightly closed.

Her brain worked furiously to think of a way to permanently stop the snake, but she could never find enough time to act.

"What the hell is this?" she asked.

"Loki's fate in myth," he answered in short bursts. "Foretold, but not in this manner. For the death of Balder, but Balder yet lives. Odin was to condemn me and Thor to deliver me. Not this demon. My son was to die to bind me. Not these ropes. My wife was to toil over me, and not you." He practically sobbed out the last words.

"Damn, Loki. Why are gods such jerks?" It was a pretty harsh fate. He'd done some bone-headed things, but nobody could deserve that. "How do we get out of here?"

"In the telling, I break free after almost-endless agony."

"How endless are we talking about?" The baby was pushing down on her bladder. She really had to pee. She didn't think she could take an eternity of that.

"This may be my fate, but it cannot be yours. If you would leave..."

"Screw that." She took out her small knife and, trying to balance the unwieldy bowl, began to hack at the bindings. The knife's blade broke as the venom spilled and he shook with pain. "We'll have to think of another plan." She was hoping he could do that. When it came to tight spots, she was really only good at fighting her way out.

She eyed the snake. She could probably grab it with her hands and close its mouth if she threw herself at it, if it didn't disappear. That left Loki open to the searing toxins while she tried, however.

He spat out in anger, "How am I to fight if my arms and legs are bound? My lady now fights for me, without her consent."

There was no answer.

After a few times emptying the bowl, seeing Loki's face scarred by the acid as he struggled to remain silent, feeling her arms weaken with fatigue, she'd had enough.

"Bet you think this is pretty funny," she yelled, as if the god was hard of hearing. "What makes you think I would ever want to stay with you if this is how you treat my friend?"

The rock disappeared. Loki was sprawled on his back on the ground, free of ties, with Faith kneeling beside him, her hands empty. He grabbed one of her hands as if she would disappear at any moment, and struggled to a sitting position. He touched his face frantically with his other hand, then shook his head. "Illusion. It seemed so real."

"Felt real to me."

He look bewildered, like he couldn't get his head around what had happened. Eventually, he smiled shyly at her. "You are brave to insult a god."

"What can he do to me?"

"Better not to ask. We have been lucky. Gods can be viciously creative in their methods. They can inflict real and lasting damage." His eyes filled with an abject sadness. He wasn't withdrawing into himself, at least.

She didn't see how they were lucky. Still, she tried to be positive. "You're a god, but you're not like that."

Loki looked away. "I want only to be myself, as I truly am."

She wondered again if he knew who that was.

The creature reappeared before them and intoned, "You are but a child."

Loki put on the face of being pleased the conversation resumed. His body straightened. "I will reach my majority soon," he said as if he were telling the time.

"The Slayer who accompanies you is older in heart than you, and may indeed live longer in body."

"I have lived for thousands of years! She is but a mortal whose life flickers like a flame in the wind."

She didn't need to stand around and be insulted. She yanked her hand out of his and stepped forward.

"Look, we've come this far to ask about the Braid of Souls. I don't mind fighting. I'm not doing anything else. Rather fight than be passed around like somebody's crack pipe. So, let's just do this. Bring on the fire demon, Ben Grimm. I'm ready."

"You would fight for this low one?" the creature questioned, the sound jarring her body like the rhythm section of a band she used to like.

"Ready whenever you are."

"You have the spirit of my daughter."

"Lucky me."

"I am impressed by the courage you display."

"Maybe I just like to fight." But despite her words, Faith felt like she wanted to faint. "Look, if we aren't gonna throw down, can I get a chair or something?"

Throne-like chairs carved of black, glassy rock appeared behind her and Loki. She sank into one. Despite its hard appearance, the support was just what she needed. Loki remained standing.

The creature spoke, "I sense what you are missing, Loki of Asgard, who was once a son of Odin. The Braid will not help you."

Loki's face became sober and considering. "How come you to know me?"

"Odin visited me the day he removed you from Jotunheim."

Loki sat. His voice faltered. "You knew Odin?"

"Long ago."

Loki's forehead wrinkled as if he was considering this. He smiled and switched to a placating tone, heavy with camaraderie. "Knowing Odin is pleasure enough for any being."

"Make no mistake. I do not care about you or your problems."

Loki had a smug look on his face. "You have entertained us thus far."

"What would you give to me, Frost Giant, in return for this favor you ask?"

"Do you still love Odin?"

"Odin squandered my good will. It cannot be salvaged."

Quick as a thought, Loki changed tactics, sounding more confidential. "I will help you win your revenge."

"I have no need for revenge."

"Power, then. I will cede the throne of Asgard to you. It is a far greater seat that this on Midgard."

"You have no throne."

"I would give you access to prizes long withheld from the knowledge of others."

"The treasures of Odin's vaults. You would so quickly, so easily, barter the peace of the Universe for your trifling request?"

"The matter is not a trifle to me. And peace is never secure."

"I have no need for these treasures."

"What is your desire, then, that I may fulfill it?" Loki asked in a hopeful voice.

"I care only for my daughter."

"Have I not brought her to you?" Loki said in a calculated but reasonable voice.

"You have. Heavy with your sons."

Loki was silent, his eyes showing white. Faith blurted out, "Sons?"

The entity rumbled, "You brought my daughter to me, with the Slayer and her sons. Does this then entitle you to a boon? I wonder if you brought them for my sake, for theirs, or for your sake alone. Do you still think yourself owed tribute or consideration for an act of treachery? I wonder if the Slayer would agree."

Faith realized the thing was calling Loki a liar. It was probably right. Still, she couldn't let that judgment stand when nothing had been proven. And she couldn't leave Loki to its mercy, whether or not Loki thought he could handle it.

"I do agree," she stated loudly. "Whatever reason Loki had to bring me here, I trust him." She put her hand on her stomach as she spoke. She didn't look at Loki.

"You trust in the sun to rise, though it burns all in its path. You trust in the waves to break, though they tear asunder the ground beneath them. You trust in what seems constant, but can turn to chaos in an instant."

"Waves and sun are mostly good for the world. I trust Loki to do his best for me and for my, um, sons."

"Gotten by chance, kept by stealth. This convinces you of his good?"

"He's looked after me. He hasn't left my side when I've needed him. His actions convince me he's good."

The creature spoke to Loki again. Loki stood tall and regal. "You are highly honored, little Frost Giant. She speaks for your cause. She does not know the nature of the sons she carries, nor does she know why you have brought her here, but she hands her life to your care.

"I have heard tell of you in Odin's farseeing: the one who would delight in the ruin of worlds as much as revel in their building. Odin saw himself in that prophecy, but he changed before he would fulfill the vision."

"Odin has long embodied order and law." Loki sounded annoyed.

"I knew him when he was young, when the people on this Earth began to walk. He and I hunted and fought together. Do these words mean anything to you?"

Loki seemed stunned. "Odin's brothers do not live."

"I am certain Odin never speaks of them. But he and I were not brothers, although we did adopt each other, after a fashion."

"I have not heard tales of you."

"This is no surprise. Odin is protective of his image and his pride, of that which is his to control. He could not control me. We parted long before he took the throne of Asgard."

"I... I confess this is news to me."

"Odin was not always the patriarch you know. He was headstrong and rebellious in his youth, questioning his role in the world. He lived a life of passion and deep feeling. We were inseparable once. He learned much of magic and ruling from me.

"But more than he longed for my company, Odin longed for a shining castle, for battle and glory, for a queen, for princes to carry his name. He craved the title of All-Father. He sought the stature that ties him now to sorrow.

"I was content to let him go, for my part. I sought of being, knowledge and understanding. I found the freedom to pursue these things."

"Forgive me, but you live alone in a hole in the ground."

"Tell me where you live, margin-walker."

Loki raised his arms to indicate his surroundings. "Why, wherever I want."

"This cave looks desolate to you." The ground rumbled again. "Know that I am much like you, at home only in illusion."

Loki grasped for words. "I could perhaps arrange for you to rekindle the flame of friendship with Odin..."

The creature was silent for a while, then asked, "Did Odin tell you what happened to his father? The answer may reveal why he so readily rejects you. He cannot bear to see the reflection of his own deeds, the failure of good that is in that reflection."

Loki was impatient. "No, he told me nothing."

"Odin surprised me with a visit after he won the war with Laufey. I never thought to see him again. He asked that I keep you hostage here, as a favor to him. I had some experience with hostage-keeping, and no stake in his battles.

"I told him he had done a horrible wrong by taking you from your homeland, but he had changed. He would not tolerate argument, as if I was his to command. We quarreled and he returned with you to his wife and queen, who was more accommodating than I.

"It was the last time I saw him. You were responsible for finally ending our friendship. Your existence has been a curse to everyone you have touched."

Faith spoke up. "Not to me. And he was just a baby back then. How could he be responsible for anything? Nobody’s born evil."

"Has he told you that he is not as he seems? He is a Frost Giant stolen by Odin from the altar where he was placed by his mother for safekeeping. Odin took him to ensure peace. Because Odin also took the source of the Frost Giants' power, Odin had his peace. One of the sons you carry is more Frost Giant than human."

"Yeah, he told me that." Faith had no idea what a frost giant was, but it couldn't be that bad, judging by Loki's appearance. "So I'm really carrying two sons?"

"You are."

"Go me." No wonder it looked like she'd shoplifted a wrecking ball from a construction site. "One of them is a giant, like Loki?"

"He is not abnormally small like his father."

Loki made a small scowl at being called abnormally small.

The dark figure continued, "The other child is primarily human, but imbued with magic even at this early stage. His brother has magic, as well, though not as innately strong."

Faith cradled her stomach. She never expected a magical child.

"Shall I show you what Loki is, what he has kept hidden from you?"

"Please don't," Loki requested in a hurried whisper. He added tentatively, "Did you know my mother, in Jotunheim? "

"As did you. Laufey was your mother."

Loki scoffed. "Laufey was male, the king."

"Laufey was born a woman. She was the ruler of the Frost Giants."

Loki seemed stricken by this news, his eyes widening, his mouth gaping open.

"Laufey was rebellious and took a lover not of her people. Perhaps fed up with her games, perhaps harboring deep shame, perhaps fearful of the child she carried, her lover finally left her to return to his wife and their small child.

"In her fury, much like you, she attacked Midgard. She wanted to prove herself a worthy opponent and a better ruler than others. She wanted attention. Instead, she found a bloody, prolonged war, in which many of her soldiers perished.

"In a desperate attempt to salvage a victory, she ordered the women of her planet to become men to continue the battle against the Aesir. She led the way in this. The Frost Giants are shape-shifters. You of all people must appreciate this.

Loki shook his head in consternation. "Why didn't she change back?"

"Odin had taken the Casket, the source of power for Frost Giants, kept always in the royal vault, seldom seen by non-royals. Her female followers who became men could not return to their previous forms without the Casket. She might have, but she did not, to honor their sacrifice.

"But... I retained my abilities without having the Casket near."

"Where did Odin keep the Casket?"

"In his vault, with the other treasures," a dawning look filled Loki's face, "directly below my chambers."

"You grew up with it near, absorbing its powers, until you are as much a child of the Casket as any creature."

Loki’s face reflected an internal struggle. "Laufey rejected me when we met."

"Perhaps Laufey had grown even more bitter by then. Your small size and soft appearance were the legacy of her poor judgment. She had reason to hate the Aesir, who kept distrust and fear in their hearts, who left her with a realm in ruins. You were more Aesir than Frost Giant, so you were a reminder of her failures."

"My mother..." He seemed flabbergasted, disbelieving. "But how can you know these things?"

“I often watch events transpire throughout the Universe. I no longer intervene. On whose side would I stand? All are equally rancorous in my view."

Loki’s face fell a little at that. His crestfallen look was quickly replaced by a skeptical one, however.

The creature said to Loki, "The Slayer says you seek an artifact. What if I cannot give this to you?"

Loki struggled to form a disaffected stance, but once he got the pose, his voice became light. "Then this will have been an amusing trip, and I will have been left with more questions than answers. But you have given me reason to believe I have come to the end of my quest, and that I can offer to you that which your heart desires."

"Perhaps it is so." The creature's voice fell upon Faith. "If the Slayer will remain with me, then I will give you what you seek."

Loki hesitated. He glanced at Faith with a guilty expression. "You can help her?"

"I can preserve her and her sons." She didn't like the sound of "preserve." Was he going to put her in a refrigerator?

Loki frowned and turned his head back and forth as if searching for an answer, his hands moving at his sides.

The demon added, "You may stay, as well, and watch your children grow."

Loki's hollowed-out face held a haunted, anguished look.

Faith stepped in for her own cause. "I'm not part of his bargain. I'm not his to give away. And just so you know, I am not going to be your plaything or raise my kids in a cave with those creepy shadow things popping in and out, so take that option off the table now."

The creature's voice became gentle. "You have a warrior's spirit."

"And you're nuts." Faith stood up. "Come on, Loki, this is hopeless."

Loki spoke in a logical voice, edged with dismay. "My lady, without his aid, I do not have a prayer of saving you. I come from a race of giants, the smallest males twice my height. This is the child you bear. This god created the Slayers. He gave Spike a soul. He can help us."

"I'm not gonna be the price for this."

"Would you rather pay the price of losing your life for having known me?"

"Kinda works out the same no matter what I do. I'd rather be free."

"I could not pay that price. Please do not ask it of me."

Faith rounded on the demon. "Did you really create the Slayers? 'Cause I heard it was those three shadow men who put a demon in a girl against her will, made her almost a demon. It's a struggle for a Slayer to remain human, but it's no big deal, 'cause she usually dies within two years after she's called, so no harm, no foul. Some great father you turned out to be, right? Now you're gonna save me and my kids, and keep us here for your amusement. Is this what being a god is all about, playing with people's lives? It's flat-out evil, if you ask me."

The demon spoke in a grave tone. "I am neither good nor evil, as you understand the terms. Yes, I created the line of Slayers. When my forbears traveled to this place, they brought alien armies as their defenders. With few adversaries, those mercenaries began to take over this planet. I realized the humans would need their own champions. So I chose the first Slayer and bade the shamans of her village to bring her to me. They were willing; they received much in return. They became the first Watchers. The Braid of Souls has maintained the line ever since."

He paused as if he expected her to say something. She was still processing the information that demons were aliens.

He took up again. "For the pain inflicted on the Slayers, how many human lives were saved? It was neither good nor bad. It was a necessary thing."

"You couldn't just destroy the aliens yourself?"

"Had I attempted to destroy those who became your demons, I would have destroyed your people. Many of the mercenaries left at our command. Of those who would not leave, I banished the majority to parallel dimensions, there to live their lives in societies of their own making.

"But the vampires, detestable parasites who killed and occupied the spirits of the dead, found their perfect habitat on Earth. Human blood was plentiful and to their liking. They flourished beyond my capacity to control them. I was to leave this planet, but could not depart with it left so vulnerable. Humans had made my existence possible, you see.

"I imprisoned the majority of the vampires beneath the Hellmouth, as you know, but some had already adapted and were able to hide among the humans. I realized your race would be eradicated. So, I infused the selected girl with a fighting spirit."

"Infused, huh?" Faith wasn't sure what that meant.

"The girl would not have agreed, had she been able to understand, but I did what I had to do to protect the humans."

"What you did was pick a girl, weaker, not able to fight back, and you threw her into the middle of a nightmare, and who cared what happened to her, it was all about offing vampires?"

"At the time, the most powerful vampire was a woman. She was clever and brutal. I thought a girl with the heart for battle would have more success against this queen than a male, who would be the expected slayer. And I felt a girl would be less inclined to seize power for herself. Millennia have proved me right."

"Slayers don't live long enough to seize power."

"You and the one before you have changed the rules. Now the world is full of women who could be Slayers. You are the true Slayer, however."

"That why you want me here? Don't want a knock-off? And you'll take Loki, too, to what, keep me quiet? Collect 'em all."

"As I am neither good nor evil, know that Loki is neither, as well. As he is a child to me, so are you. Children often have much to teach their elders. I would know this modern world from you. This is why I have asked you to stay, this and the opportunity to repair the relationship with one who left me on the worst terms."

"Wouldn't exactly call it asking."

"I will do all in my power to see you happy here."

"The broken record of the gods," Faith observed, thinking of Loki and his promises. "What is this warrior demon inside me?"

"It is the spirit of my firstborn, a daughter, a fierce fighter whose body died while on this planet. She was rebellious, always angry. I let her depart with an early Slayer and I have regretted it since. I am pleased you have returned her to me."

"Sounds more like you kidnapped some poor girl to keep your daughter alive, and then kept doing that, so your daughter's spirit finally walked away in disgust. I bet she didn't even get any say about whether or not _she_ wanted to be a Slayer, just like the girl you kidnapped. Like you care about humans at all."

"My lady, please," Loki beseeched. He was looking between Faith and the figure with increasing alarm.

"No," she shot back at Loki. "Isn't this why you brought me here, to dangle in front of this demon like a cat toy? I'm not supposed to have a say, am I? Just sit on the string and look like a quiet, tasty mouse."

"No!"

"Funny thing: It's getting harder to believe you." Faith addressed the demon again. "You call yourself my father, but that's a title you gotta earn. Where were you all my life? Big deal, I'm a Slayer. You didn't give me anything great. You gave me pain and confusion and unhappiness. You gave me a way to end my life, and not even get credit for the good I did. Now you want something from me? How about acting like a father and supporting me when I make my own choices? What's so hard about caring for your family?"

Faith felt exhausted or on the verge of tears or ready to hit something, she couldn't decide which. Her arm continued to cradle her stomach.

The figure disappeared, leaving Faith and Loki immersed in darkness.

"Perfect," Faith shouted at the emptiness. "Now I know you're a dad. Always running away."

She heard Loki breathing heavily next to her, as if he were trying to calm himself. He said in a tense voice, "I wish you had let me be the one to speak to him, as I asked. I've dealt with his kind before. We are two gods. We understand each other. You are a mortal. You have no standing here."

"Think you were doing better?"

He muttered, "Thor made a better bride."

"Whatever that means." She was still angry, but the darkness was working on her. She had to get out of that place. She had to convince Loki to go with her.

Loki must have calmed down a little, too. He ventured, "I think his daughter does speak through you."

"Great. Channeling my inner demon."

"An angry goddess, perhaps."

"Well, she sure can pick her mouthpiece. I have daddy issues, myself."

"Venting one's so-called daddy issues is seldom effective with an authoritarian deity who can never admit to doing wrong."

"Lies are more effective?"

"I would not lie to you." His voice sounded sincere, almost offended.

"Like I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You always know when I lie." He said this quite plainly, as if was an obvious truth.

Faith didn't really think it was true, but if he thought it was, good for her. "Better believe it. But what about this Frost Giant thing? Wasn't that a lie?"

"I have shown you who I am as best I am able."

That's what she figured. Big and cold - she got it. She didn't know why it was such a huge deal.

He mused to himself, "There was so much I did not know. Odin never spoke of this entity. No-one mentioned a daughter. My mother... my mother." His voice trailed off.

She couldn't think of anything else to do. "Well, let's start the long climb back."

"I'd prefer it if you'd stay, for your own welfare."

"Can't. Got a job to do."

Faith rose from the chair and pointed the flashlight to where she thought the stairs had been. The weak light showed nothing but darkness. She swung the light in a wide arc, but did not find the stairs. She wasn't even sure the floor existed outside the range of the light.

"Stair's aren't here. Might take awhile to find them."

"Don't leave," he implored, his voice soft.

"Come with me."

He said with a resigned sigh, "There is no way out, Lady Faith."

"How do you know?"

His voice was very low and dejected. "We are in the Void with a god who wishes us, or at least you, to stay. In this place, as our host said, there is no good or evil. There is only a god's will. We must wait."

Faith began to get worried. She swung the light back and forth. The space was so dark.

"This is the Void?"

"Part of it."

"It's spooky."

"It is cold and vast and full of terrors, the worst of them being alone with no-one to touch you when you reach out, no-one to reply when you cry out, no-one to remember you exist."

She sat on the arm of his chair and wrapped an arm around him to hold him close. "Keep talking, then." 

"What should I say?"

Faith suggested, "How about the truth about what why we're here?"

Silence.

"Loki?"

There was anguish in his voice. "You're a clever woman. I thought you'd have guessed."

"I had other things on my mind, like the Braid of Souls."

"A good excuse to involve a Slayer."

"It worked. But I'm here for you, not for that thing, not even to save the world."

"I know," he said, putting his hands on his head. "I have spoken much of magic, how it has shaped my life and my actions. Have you seen me perform magic?"

"You're wicked strong and fast."

A "tch" sound of dismissal issued from his downturned face.

"So this has all been about magic? You were doing fine without it. We lived in the mountains on our own, traveled halfway around the world, kicked demon asses, did lots of things. We didn't need magic."

"I have used magic all my life. My earliest memories are of sitting at my mother's knee, learning to start a fire in the hearth by merely flicking my fingers, then surprising her by lighting all the lamps in the room at once with my flame. I am the best sorcerer in the Nine Realms. Magic defines me."

"I know someone who's addicted to magic..."

"Have a care not to compare me with a puny mortal." His whole body had stiffened.

She rolled her eyes. "Right. No comparison."

"I can do much with magic. I could show you worlds you cannot imagine. I could give you comfort and a home of which you are worthy. I could perhaps even save your life and the lives of our children."

Backtracking slightly, she asked, "How'd you lose it?"

"It was bound by Odin before he cast me to this prison."

"I thought that glass box was your prison."

"You saw it?"

"Looked like solitary in the joint I was in, a little larger and cleaner."

"It was in a dark place in the depths of Asgard. I was left there alone for what was supposed to be the rest of my life. My meals appeared by magic. Books appeared, sent to instruct me on certain ideas I would have no opportunity to question. For the longest time, I saw no-one.” He whispered, "I am sorry to say I almost lost my mind."

The cell didn't look dark to Faith, but she knew he experienced it that way. She'd been in solitary a couple of times. The lack of someone to talk to, to check reality against -- it had nearly driven her crazy. Giles read her some article that said solitary confinement was basically the worst torture. She could see that, especially for someone as smart and talkative and show-offy as Loki.

He was a thinker, but being alone had probably made him self-aware to the point he could see nothing but what he decided was there. Being a loner, being unable to trust anyone - she'd been there. He probably honed in on the bad things and obsessed over them, not able to break away from the stories that hurt him, the ones he told himself to rationalize his choices. But he had her now.

"How'd you get out?"

"Thor chanced my release so I could perform some small service for him, a thing only I could do. When that task was done, when my intellect and my knowledge were used to win a war, when I had given everything and more, Odin's reply was to strip me of my powers and make me mortal, banished to understand the harm I had done this realm. Unlike with Thor, however, Odin provided no test for me to prove my worth. He gave me only exile and no way to end it.

"So I searched for the one who could, I believed, grant me the return of my sorcery."

"How'd you know about this demon?"

"When I came to Midgard to rule, I read many of the accounts in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files. I had long perceived events in human history that could not be explained without the intervention of a god. Indeed, many of your religions are built upon such events. I searched further, beyond S.H.I.E.L.D.'s knowledge, into the realm of magic and the supernatural.

"I found the Slayers, those who seem to have been here from the beginning. Before I was returned to Asgard in chains, I exchanged information with a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative who hails from a place where old stories are not discounted. She was uncertain why my curiosity led me to ask about the Slayers, but she gave me your name.

"When I returned again to Midgard, I found your file, compiled by S.H.I.E.L.D. during the space of my absence. It was easy to locate the record in their servers. Perhaps they wanted me to meet you. They saw you only as a murderer."

"Got that from the guys who visited me."

"Encountering Spike confirmed to me that I was following the correct path. Vampires were the link. And I knew a demon could not create a Slayer or grant a soul. Only a god can do that."

"Why did you need me? You could have made it here on your own."

"I knew you were connected to the whole as a Slayer, but you have also been my guide. If I thought to use you as a bargaining piece, I had no plan to turn you over to the creature, especially as I came to know you. When you became pregnant, when I realized you were carrying a child that could kill you, I had no choice but to bring you with me. If your survival means nothing to you, it means everything to me."

Faith went back to her own chair and turned off the flashlight, but she kept hold of Loki's hand. "So what happens now?"

"We await his whim. He is mightier than I, at the moment. And even had I magic, it would be difficult to withstand him." He paused. "I would have given anything for the return of my magic at one time. I cannot now give you up, but I would have stayed with you here."

He might have believed that, even if she didn't. He was too changeable to stay in one place forever. Maybe Asgard, but that bridge had been destroyed. She said, "I never thought that we were going to get married or have a two-kid house in some suburb."

"We would not have had the ideal life that your kind celebrates, setting up a home on Midgard, finding a job as so many mortals are forced to do, to toil in drudgery and obscurity the rest of our lives for a few coins so we can raise children who conform to the spirit-killing standards of mortal communities."

"When you put it that way... that’s exactly what I was gonna do. I still have to raise my kids on Earth."

"Our children would never belong here. They would look unlike anyone else on this planet. They would possess magic."

Faith realized he was right. Really put a crimp in her plans.

"In this cave, you would not have been alone. It was my intention to not abandon you as I was told my true father abandoned me so I might die and assure him a victory, as Odin abandoned me so that I might rule in chaos and fall through the Void, and then again sit in a cell or scrape for existence in Midgard. As this god in truth abandoned his daughter, I would not abandon our children."

"You still owe me a million, too."

"Money is of little comfort here."

"It sounded like you thought about giving me up."

"My Faith, I will lose you without his help, to a terrible death I am powerless to prevent. If we are permitted to live."

"Nah, we're OK. He's kept his daughter alive forever. I don't think he wants to kill her now. Maybe he wants to talk to her, but I'm no ghost whisperer."

"Pray you are correct."

"So, that just leaves one question: how are we going to go the bathroom without getting separated?"

Loki laughed, and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

She tried to sound upbeat. "We'll find a way out of here."

Loki made no effort to move. He was usually a dynamo when it came to problem-solving. Faith was baffled.

"You've been in the Void before?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Time has no meaning there, but long enough to fear for my sanity."

"Must be tough on you, then."

He didn't answer. Faith already knew sanity could be touch-and-go with him when he was under stress.

She yelled out, "OK, whoever you are... Dad, whatever. You can stop hiding from us. I'll stay with you. Just give Loki his magic back and let him visit once in awhile, and I'll stay with you."

"What are you doing?" Loki asked, his voice lowered to a furious whisper.

"Making the sacrifice, I guess."

Several minutes passed.

Loki sounded disappointed. "You cannot command the heart of a god."

"Shock. You cannot command my heart, either, but you're still part of it."

"Impetuous Faith, always jumping into a fight with both feet before looking at the ground beneath you."

"That's me."

"Are rash decisions what you want to do for the rest of your life?"

"Hooked me up with you."

"No, that was my plan." She could hear the smile in his voice, and also the sadness.

"Good plan." She rubbed her stomach. "The truth is, I'm tired of fighting. I want to quit. I just don't know how. Staying in a dark, cold, empty cave for the rest of my life ... if I have my kids ... I don't know. It probably isn't good for them."

"I expected something different myself. An empty cave, stone chairs... I thought his magic would be more impressive."

No sooner had Loki said that than they found themselves in a garden bower surrounded by an umbrella of sunlight. Leafy trees held gently swaying branches and singing birds. A neat, green lawn was strewn with flowers and bisected by a small stream. A table appeared, with water and bread rolls and blocks of cheese, and two upholstered chairs.

A ghost of a smirk crossed Loki's face. "It's a start," he remarked.

The rumbling voice returned. "I do this for my daughter. After so many years, I would reconcile. This may give peace to the Slayer, as well."

Despite her decision to stay, Faith was miserable. She could barely look at Loki, who was now practically sparkling with anticipation. She hoped she wouldn't resent him some day. She didn't want to be like her mother, thinking she had to lie to the kids about where their father was and how she felt about him.

The entity asked, "May I speak with my daughter?"

"How you gonna do that?"

"She will leave your body."

"Wow." Faith didn't like the sound of that. "Before you talk to her, tell me something about her." Maybe the information would prove useful.

"She was my first child, conceived in my youth, before I married one of my own kind. Her mother bore our child at a time when her tribe, wild and destructive, fought my people. They found exile. My daughter was raised to hate my kind, believing another was her father. She was captured when her mother fell wounded in our war.

"Despite the misgivings of my kin, I brought her to live with my family. She bore the body of her mother's tribe, however, and did not find easy acceptance with mine. My sons came to love her as a sister, but she never remained long with us. Her passions were fighting, and family, though she was confused on this.

"She went out to fight one night although I forbade it. She was mortally wounded by the one she once called father.

"As she lay dying, I decided I could not part with her. I had long planned to create a champion. I had the human girl brought to me. As my daughter waned, I captured her spirit and put it into the girl.

"I gave her the choice of selecting the trait that would identify each new Slayer. She told me before she left me that she chose girls who possessed the most virulent anger against their fathers. Always rebellious, even without a body."

Loki's rapturous look showed he was taking it all in, so Faith didn't bother remembering the details.

"Her name is Chimera. Her mother was Echidna, known to humans as the mother of monsters."

Faith had a horrible feeling. "Is she the mother of my kids?"

"No, your body is your own. My daughter gives you strength and endurance. She can give you more, but since she left me, Slayers have not been aware of her. I would speak with her, now."

"Well, I'm game if she is," Faith agreed with some trepidation.

Faith felt something push against her mouth. She opened it and a dark, snake-like form emerged and circled her body. It had human arms and legs, and the head of a lion. The form shrunk back from Loki, as if he repelled her.

As soon as it left her, Faith felt as if she had been submerged in a tub of ice water. She screamed in terror. The snake-like form began to circle her body in a frantic motion.

The cave filled with stars, constellations and galaxies. Faith felt herself cradled in a large, cold hand. Despite that, the iciness left her body as her womb grew smaller. The hand placed her back in the chair, where she found Loki by her side almost immediately, holding her up.

The voice boomed, "Your giant child is now the size of the other, and he carries the same enchantment Loki found as an infant. He will appear as a mortal."

Faith held her smaller stomach. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. But she was not really happy. It felt like something went missing without the great size of her belly. She also felt physically weaker than she had in years, as if life itself had drained from her. She was aware of how frail her body was. She had a flash of fear at having to face the world without the strength and resilience she was used to.

The snake-like form had suspended itself in front of Faith, like it was still concerned about her. A low voice filled the space, talking to it. "I have missed you, Daughter. My life has been empty without you. What you see around me reflects this emptiness. I have turned inward, and contented myself with what news of you I receive from my servants. It is always news of violence and death, my legacy to you. I have always hoped you would return to me and we could settle our differences and start anew."

A female voice echoed throughout the cave in a roar, each "s" sound ending in a hiss. "You drove my mother's family away and drove me to fight in desperation, then you took my death and drove me into the human host. You thought I would stay and work by your side, but I could not fight my own kind, those you called your enemies. Then, when you made peace by force, you drove even your sons and their children away. In so doing, you drove me away from you."

"I had no choice, Daughter. There was always destruction in his heart. He would have killed us all."

"He was your grandson. You cast him out."

"He chose his own path."

"The choices you gave me were two: submit or fight. And so I left, for I could think of no other way to hurt you more than to reject those choices and cast my fate elsewhere."

"Then you achieved what you sought. I have been sorry since the day you left."

"Millennia I've lived with these women who battle. That was your choice, not mine. They are strong, but the forces they fight can be stronger, and each of their lives is brief and unfulfilled. I and all the women I've fought for, we have all needed you. Yet you hid from us and refused to admit you could be wrong. What have you to say to me? Will you turn away again or force me to be your prisoner through this mortal? Can we make peace?"

"I want there to be peace between us. You would cease to exist without the human, however."

"I want to rest, and this Slayer would rest from fighting. Protecting her from the Frost Giant's child has taken all my power and concentration, until I thought I would have to rescind my agreement to see my power spread among the other Slayers.

"As my consciousness has remained with this one, I would stay with her and give her strength to continue, for the children she bears, to the completion of her life. And then I may wish to go. I want you to let her make her own choices and know that, even if you disagree, you will not oppose her for my sake. Trusting her will show that you love me and care about me as I love and care about you."

"If I could embrace you, I would, but both of us are beyond that, now."

"Your word is enough."

"You have it."

"And you have my devotion and respect, as you always have, Father."

The dark form swirled to face Faith. Maybe she was waiting for permission to reenter Faith’s body. She certainly had it. Faith nodded and opened her mouth, which had been open most of the time she listened to the exchange, anyway. Faith felt her vitality return. She felt safe and fearless.

She looked at Loki, who was still holding her. He didn't need to. She was strong again, ready to face anything. "All right?" she asked him.

He didn't answer.

The deep voice filled the space. "The decision to stay or leave is yours."

"Sorry, but I want to leave. I can't live here, no matter how, ah, swank it is."

"I expected this answer."

"I'll visit you, though, you know... maybe. It isn't easy to get here, and with kids..."

"I will always be able to visit you, should you wish it."

"Five-by-five. And what about Loki? Will you restore his magic?"

"Is this what you wish?"

"Yeah."

The entity turned towards Loki. "I do this for one reason only. Yours is the true face of Asgard, the one the Aesir cannot bear to see, and therefore, as you know, they must be forced to see you. Frost Giant, your magic has been restored."

Loki grinned and said merrily, "I thank you most heartily! And for your earlier kindnesses to me, might I return the favor?" He put his arm around Faith's shoulders and held tight.

The world filled with agonizingly brilliant light. Faith's eyes adjusted to see that they were standing on the ledge outside the cave entrance. Loki held some kind of carved spear with a blue light bulb embedded the end, before its curved tip. It just appeared in his hand. He raised it and said in a voice as loud as the god's, "I reveal him." A torrent of blue light shot into the atmosphere.

The earth rumbled and the sky turned deep blue, as if the black of the cave had seeped into it. The ground as far as Faith could see began to break apart. The heavens filled with one word as the god's voice shouted, "Trickster!"

Loki smiled widely. He kissed Faith fully on the mouth and hugged her to his body. He drew them both into the pathways of Yggdrasil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to those who speak Swahili, as this uses a computer translation program. And, if this story wasn't already AU, Thor 2 spoilers make it even more so. There's still lots of reworking to be done on the next chapters.


	20. Family Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith deals with the gods.

Loki pulled them into a dark and suffocating vortex that roared through a wild, dizzying journey. They careened to a halt in what seemed like only seconds after the swirling began. They stepped through a plate glass window into world of blue and white.

While Faith tried to stop her head from spinning and get her bearings, Loki released her from his grasp and stood back. He was wearing a rockin' outfit of black and green leather, with gold accents. He looked like he belonged on a stage in front of a huge audience. The fancy vambraces were back on his forearms. He'd buried them at the bottom of his bag after they left Las Vegas. She didn't see the bags in the cave.

The cave itself seemed to be made of white rock, with blue ice columns and platforms throughout. The quality of the air was different. She could see Loki’s breath.

He watched her with joy, then smiled as if he'd just won the lottery. He set the spear against a wall and threw his arms around her. He lifted her off the cave floor and spun her around. Then he started kissing her.

It was like he just got out of prison. She could feel his hardness through the layers of leather he wore, his breath becoming more ragged, his kisses more insistent. Faith had to pry him off her, saying, "No!"

He backed away, looking slightly hurt and wary.

"It's not that I don't want you. But first I'd like to know where we are, and what happened back there at the cave."

His whole body closed up as he became defense and tense. He stared at his hands without answering.

Faith looked around again. The cave was vast. The walls were lined with translucent, blue ice. The whole place seemed lit from within. "Where are we?"

Loki walked stiffly to the mouth of the ice cave. "We are sheltered from the wind here, and from the prying eyes of many realms." He came back to her with an indifferent air. "If you haven't the strength for other pursuits, I suggest you rest for a while."

"That didn't answer my question."

His arms rose from his sides to indicate the empty space. "This is my home apart from home. I had hoped to show it to you sooner." His voice was cool.

"Cut the crap. This is a cave, like every demon hole we saw on our trip."

His lips pinched and he said, "There are no demons here. We are in the land of the Frost Giants."

"We're on another planet?" It was hard to believe. She could breathe the air, for one thing. She didn't feel extra light or extra heavy. There were no futuristic buildings or throwback dinosaurs in sight.

"If you like. Another realm."

"Why did we leave Earth?"

He turned his body away from her and began to pace the cave floor. He was using a casual, nothing-of-importance tone. "You've heard that I am a Frost Giant and that one of the sons you carry is, as well. I had hoped I could find a healer here to help us with the birth of this child."

"You never ask anyone for help unless you're setting them up for something – like me."

That got him worried. He turned and protested, "No, I never intended..."

"You never intended to get involved with me, never intended to have children with me, never intended for me to be anything but a pawn in your game."

Loki rushed over to put his hands on her arms. He lifted her chin to look at him. "Faith, do not doubt me now." Still not giving her answers.

"What was that dark sky thing when we left?"

He smiled in his alluring way. "I believe Kronos was upset that we departed so quickly."

Faith felt her heart grow cold. "You knew who the demon was all along?"

Loki's voice grew smooth and flippant. "I only guessed. There was no point in telling you when I was not certain."

"Loki, I swear to God I will bring you down right now, pregnant and freezing and all, if you don't tell me the truth."

He made a small upturn of his lips when she threatened him, but at the end of her rant, he said absent-mindedly, "Of course." He touched her arm and a white fur cape appeared. He smiled with obvious delight at being able to use his magic, and pulled the throw over her shoulders. She started warming up immediately, at least physically.

"Thanks, but no more cons. How did you know him?"

He sighed. "Kronos is one of the old gods."

"You knew him from before? Sure didn't seem like it."

"No." He made a stab at sounding reasonable. "He gave us our freedom and made no conditions. We have no obligation to him. We've achieved our goal. We are together. That is all that need be said."

"The ground started crumbling to pieces and the sky turned black! Call me crazy, but those aren't good things!"

He smiled gaily. "It was merely a storm, come up suddenly." He was still pouring snake oil. The song, "Liar," by the Sex Pistols came into her head.

"If it was a storm, why didn't we go back to the cave or the truck? Why here?"

Loki moved to the cave entrance and gazed out. "My Faith, do not question this further. I intend for us to make a new life together, and leave the old far behind. What happens elsewhere is of no consequence to that."

"Won't Kronos just follow us?"

"He knows not of this place. We are safe here."

"That's it." Faith walked to the mouth of the cave and looked out. It was a clear drop as far as she could see, which was about six feet through the clouds that hugged the cliff face. She figured level ground was a long way down.

She grabbed the fancy spear to use as a pole. As soon as her hand was on it, she felt a powerful will seize her mind, a certainty she found hard to resist. She knew she could defeat anyone, attain any goal. She held a weapon of infinite potential. Loki was no more than an ant compared to it. She could make him tell the truth. It was her right. She could bend him to her will. She would enjoy it.

She cast her eyes towards Loki, who seemed concerned. "Faith, please put the scepter aside," he requested in a steadying voice.

In a moment of shocked realization that she thought of hurting him, she cast the spear away from her. It fell against the wall with a bang. The blue stone came loose and rolled away, landing at her feet. She wanted to kick it out the cave entrance, but Loki reached her first and kicked it away from her.

Clearing her head and remembering her original plan, she lowered herself to the floor, looking for a foothold.

"What are you doing?"

"Going out for cigarettes."

"Faith, be sensible. There is no place for you to go."

Asking her to be sensible was the exact wrong thing to do. She grabbed the side of the entrance and began to lower herself down the icy rocks. "If you won't tell me what's going on, maybe I can find someone who will."

He ran over to her and put his hand on her arm. "You will freeze out there. Our children..."

"Now you care?"

Loki cried out, "It isn't safe for you in this world."

"You just said it was!" Faith frowned up at him. "Will you tell me the truth?"

"Yes, yes. I swear." He acted like his rib cage was being separated from his spine.

He helped her haul herself back onto the ledge. When she was upright, he embraced her as if she'd been standing on the precipice intending to fall. He leaned back to frantically search her eyes. His eyes were brimming with tears. He asked, "Do you still love me?"

"I must be nuts, but I still love you."

"Why?"

"God, not this again." She leaned against him and recited, "Because you're brave and smart and strong. Because you treat me with respect and make me laugh. Because you're about the only friend I have who cares about me without judging me. Because you're the sexiest thing on two legs I've ever met. Because I just do, OK?"

He was watching her with desperate concentration on his face, but he pulled himself together and joked, "You've met sexier things who didn't have two legs?"

"Just tell me what's going on."

He shifted his head away from her and gave her a sideways glance. "Kronos has an old enemy, one who treated me badly, who promised to do much worse, but for this one chance to... to..."

"You gave Kronos up to an old enemy? After he helped you?"

"I cannot expect you to understand. It was not for myself alone. It meant the survival of more than me. It meant the future of Asgard, and perhaps the Nine Realms. He would have destroyed everything."

"And what about Earth?"

Loki looked away. "He approaches Midgard now to continue his fight with Kronos."

An even heavier foreboding fell over Faith. "This enemy is as powerful as a god who creates souls and shrinks babies and looks like stars?"

"I do not know which is more powerful. Kronos no longer has form, but he is much older than his grandson."

"Grandson? This is a family fight?" Family fights were the worst.

"He will not be able to attack a being of pure consciousness such as Kronos."

"But he's going to tear my planet apart trying."

"Nothing is certain."

"Why didn't you just tell Kronos about his grandson?"

He said with subdued shame, "Thanos knows intimate details of all the places and people I know, save you."

Faith paused only a second. "Take me back."

"You cannot fight him, Faith. None on Earth can. Thanos is too mighty, too ruthless."

"Heard that before." Faith grabbed Loki's hand. "Take me back to Kronos."

"I cannot."

"Just do it."

"We are safe here. We can start a new life, a family. You will find care, for the birth."

"What, in your palace here? It's not exactly how you described it."

"I can change it, or we can find another. All is possible now. We are free."

"I don't want palaces or fine things. I just want to exist in my world. I can't do that if it's gone."

"You don't understand what you are asking."

"No, you don't understand. I can't stay with someone who's going to wipe out the only reason I existed for half my life, the place where all the people I know are living."

"Why not?" He smiled as if he really didn't understand. "You were alone there. Few people appreciated you. You yourself said they judged you poorly. Stay with me. I will make you happy."

"You don't get it, do you? Is your magic worth more than millions of lives? You've survived without it before. It's like losing a hand -- you learn to live without it."

"With magic, I can regenerate a lost hand," he replied simply. "Tell me, what value do these millions of lives have to you?"

"I can't put a value on them. They're just valuable," she explained with increasing disbelief. What there really a test on the value of life?

"Your kind kill each other in the thousands, or enslave, torture, starve, and humiliate. They do far worse than ever I have done. Their bestiality has not changed throughout millenia, and there is no glimmer of hope for their future improvement."

"I thought you wanted to rule them!"

"I decided you were right; Midgard is not a place suited to my rule."

"Don't turn this on me! I would never make the decision you made."

He continued to regard her with a baffled expression. "Millions of lives will be spared through my decision."

"You say you want to save Asgard and the Nine Realms. What if this thing were attacking Asgard?"

He dredged up a reluctant response. "I would fight."

"See, that's how I feel."

He had no answer to that. Instead, his face took on a hopeless misery. "You would leave me, for this?"

"No, Loki. I never want to leave you."

An intense tapestry of feelings played across his face as he looked at her, ending in a smile of stunning beauty. She wanted to give him a lifetime of such smiles.

"But what am I going to tell our children? That their father destroyed their planet and killed all their people?"

He looked away and his expression hardened. "I cannot let you go."

"So how are you different from Odin, who put you in prison? How are you different from Kronos, who imprisoned his daughter?"

He shrieked, "Enough!" his shoulders rigid, his hands making fists at his side.

"I will end up the same as her. I'll end up hating you."

He turned to look at her, his face contorted with agony.

"If you can't take me back yourself, just send me to Kronos alone."

"To die?"

"Not if I can help it. I thought I'd explain to him what happened and see if I can get him to take this other god, his grandson, somewhere else for their family reunion."

Loki's face was full of sadness, but Faith saw hope begin to dawn, and a sly reckoning. "I will go back. If sacrifice be made, I must be the one to make it."

"I'm supposed to be his daughter. I should be the one who talks to him."

He took her around the waist and gazed into her eyes. "In truth, you are the one who is brave and smart and strong."

"And sexy."

He laughed. "And my truest friend."

This time, Loki held her close and walked through the mirror-like surface of the ice. They entered the blue and green roads of Yggdrasil.

The path sucked them in and carried them along like they were leaves on a river, the way Loki said it would be. Their travel reminded her of a nature film she watched in class once, where she joked to the boy next to her about the words "capillary action," the one where a molecule flew past silver and green stained-glass windows as it sped along a shining, blue waterway, or at least, that's what she remembered happening. She found more action with that guy behind an equipment shed, and after that, she didn't exactly hang around for the rest of school.

While the tree's cells flashed by her, she felt at ease. She was able to glimpse the offshoots that held worlds.

Loki brought them to the mouth of the cave in Chad. The sky was a churning sea of black and red clouds, something much angrier and more ominous than a storm. Gaping holes stood where the land had once been flat. There was so must dust in the air it was like the sky was trying to switch places with the ground.

Darkness full of stars seeped steadily from the mouth of the cave and swept around them where they stood. Kronos' voice boomed off the rocks. "Mischief, so you are named. I knew this, yet I did not heed, so glad was I at the return of my daughter. Confess your purpose in this, or I will remove your ill-gained magic."

Loki said simply, "Thanos seeks you."

The darkness surrounded Loki. "You have been touched by him. I should have seen this."

"You only made play at probing my mind by comparison to his ministrations," Loki said in a shaky but determined voice.

Kronos mused, "I fought to dispatch him, but it was not to be. I believed he had been sufficiently contained and isolated, however, and unable to harm others."

"It is difficult to keep the clever ones locked away forever."

"He is more a destructive beast than a determined or disturbed child. And you have been in league with him."

Faith looked at Loki sideways. He was trembling slightly, his normal composure held rigid. "I did not seek him out. I fell into his hands."

After a pause, Kronos said, "I understand," in a voice that carried a weight of considerable pity. "It must have taken great courage for you to find me, for how could you know I was not as careless as he?"

"I knew he saw you as his greatest enemy for your righteousness, and it was my desperate hope that this was true. Had I been able to appeal to you as a friend, I would have, but your welcome put me in question of friendship. When you said you no longer involved yourself in conflict, I put all alliance out of mind."

"How did you find me here, where I have existed in the quietude of study and experimentation?"

"I was forced to listen to great swathes of Thanos' history. He spoke most bitterly of you. He did not know where you had gone or what form of existence you had taken. He believed you adrift in the galaxies. He believed you ignored him out of loathing." Loki forced a smile, but it was empty.

He continued, "When I first came to Midgard at his behest, I took the time to research the mortals. I knew that, primitive and coarse as they are, they could not have persisted without some external magical protection. It was an easy enough matter to find mention of the Slayers, and to extrapolate that some force must be been responsible for their existence, which began in ancient time and has continued throughout this realm's history."

Faith had her mouth open as she stared at Loki. He was gaining more confidence as he went on.

"Thanos contacted me through the Tesseract as Thor dragged me back to Asgard. Thor thought me faint, afraid to face justice." Loki huffed his amusement. "I told Thanos what I suspected, that you were in Midgard. He said he would spare Asgard if I could find your hold. Once Thor's war was over, once my part had been discerned, Odin was only too glad to exile me to this realm. Here I have searched for you since, through my Lady Faith, my guide and the true Slayer." Loki was holding himself with smug satisfaction. Faith wanted to kick him.

Kronos confirmed, "I have been on Midgard, seeking to redress the wrongs I have done, seeking to return to corporeal form, for my existence has been all I wished for, but it has been lonely beyond bearing."

Faith felt sorry for him. All that power, and he was still alone. No wonder he was desperate to have his daughter with him.

Kronos opined, "You are clever, little one, but not wise, never wise, to trust Thanos."

Loki's confidence deflated a little. "I had little choice."

"Perhaps. What is his plan for me?"

"It is not your demise he seeks, for he believes he cannot attain that gift. Yes, gift. He seeks only the utter destruction of others as a tribute to his mistress, Death.

"He has means to destroy entire planets, and I have no doubt but he brings those engines with him, causing the current disruption to Midgard's surface. But I do not think he plans to obliterate this place until he makes you watch the prolonged and terrible deaths of its inhabitants. He believes you cannot intervene. Thus, his revenge will be complete, if you cannot defeat him."

Kronos rumbled, "I can defeat him."

Faith spoke. "Good, but can you leave the Earth and go far away? Why give Thanos chance one to destroy the planet?"

The ground shook with Kronos' laugh. "You are direct, daughter."

"Gotta be. There's no time."

"Yes, it is long past time that Thanos was dealt with, and I wish no harm on this realm. I am pleased that you returned to watch me depart, my courageous one, and that I might give you this."

A large gold ring appeared on Faith's right heart finger. She lifted her hand to examine it. It looked like human hair braided in an intricate weave to form a continuous circle. It shaped itself to her finger. It felt alive with memory and purpose.

"The Braid of Souls. It binds the soul of the Slayer to my daughter's spirit, and assures the succession. Should it be broken, the Slayers would no longer exist. The one that does exist, or ones as it is now, would lose their powers."

Faith looked at the ring speculatively. Even if she was tempted to break the bond and free others, she knew how much she got from being a Slayer, not just strength, but purpose. She couldn't give that up.

Faith enclosed the hand with the ring in her other hand. "They're safe with me."

Kronos addressed Loki. "Odin should applaud your progress. He was unrelenting in his desires, for war and then for peace. But he reduced his enemies to rubble, and kept them under his boot by hoarding their wealth and technology. He created resentment, even deep hatred, of Asgard, when he could have been generous through aid or supportive through trade. You were taught that all those outside Asgard were your inferiors and thus, out of their jealousy and debased nature, they were your sworn enemies. Asgard names you the outsider, now. Would you have been so full of hate had your voice not been suppressed, had you not been made to feel inferior?"

"I am not inferior, old one, and I always find a way to express myself."

"You could have stayed with me, both of you. I would have taught you all I taught Odin, and more, how to use your gifts wisely."

"I thank you, but we have traveled far on our own and no longer need a father."

"You could unite the enemies of Asgard and lead the worlds to change. But I fear it is destruction you will seek, no longer simple validation or recognition."

"With Faith by my side, is this end so certain?"

"Time will tell," Kronos' answered. "Keep each other safe."

All the stars of a dark night vanished. Clouds still churned overhead, but they were thunderclouds, not red and black whirlpools.

Loki gave Faith a cocky and mischievous grin. "It seems we've saved your Earth."

"First time for everything."

His voice became shyer as he took her hands. "You will come back with me?"

"To that freezing cave?"

"I will make it warm for you."

Lightning shot through her answer. Loki's eyebrows knit together in alarm. He reached for Faith, but she had been knocked away by the impact of a large man landing on the rock ledge, swinging an enormous mallet. He was blond and muscular, with piercing blue eyes. He wore some sort of Roman gladiator outfit, complete with a red cape. If it weren't for the gear and his hair as long as Loki's, he would have looked like a gigantic, old-fashioned football player.

The stranger’s voice commanded, "Loki, you will return to Asgard with me now."

Loki made himself as tall and proud as he could, and answered with derision. "And tell me, Thor, what delights await me in Asgard?"

"Your cell awaits you."

"Are you sure it isn't death this time? And for what? For countering the All-Father's edict and not remaining a weak, magicless mortal?"

Thor thundered, "Not only for that. You once again put Midgard in peril."

Loki was amused. "And yet it survives. Why, had you not filled the sky with clouds, the sun would even shine."

"I have no time for your banter. I have the means to take you back."

Loki looked around. "I see not your monster."

Thor pulled what looked like a fishing net from a pouch on his belt. It was large enough to cover Loki, but looked light and delicate. Thor held it by the metal band stitched around its circumference. He seemed uncomfortable handling it. The hammer suited him better.

"I brought this magic of Father's."

Loki looked at the net with apprehension, but said in a mocking tone, "Always the obedient one, even now, after he shunned your mortal love, after the losses of your last war."

"I should have known better than to take you into my cause. Every morsel you receive leads you to believe you deserve the banquet. You will certainly go after it, and leave none for others. You think only of yourself."

"Were that ever true, know that I have changed. Meet my gracious lady, my heart, my Faith."

Faith stepped forward with her hand out. "Hi, great to finally meet you."

Thor looked down at her with contempt. "Of all the worthy female mortals in this realm, this is the one you choose. My friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. have told me about this person with whom you travel. They say she was lately in flight from their justice. Her murder of innocents was vicious and without remorse, her very purpose to hunt and kill. Her access to wealth and strength is a mystery to S.H.I.E.L.D. They believe she obtained such things through guile or theft. She is not known to give love or fealty, but rather to engage in brief encounters solely to quench her lust. And THIS is the one you proffer to be your mate. I know you lack knowledge of women, but you are pathetic indeed to have fallen under the spell of the first harlot you espied."

Faith stepped away from Thor in shock. Loki squared his shoulders. "You know nothing of my experience or how it was obtained. And she has not bewitched me. She is nothing but honest and good. I have chosen to be with her."

"Then your choice reflects poorly on you, for what can it tell me when you choose one such as this?"

"Nothing. It tells you nothing," Loki snarled. "You think you can judge, you who spent a lifetime hunting, killing, and taking whatever or whomever you wanted, on a whim and for the moment only?"

"You know that I have changed. But this is not about me."

"Oh, but it is. How many have you helped without remit from your father? She has saved this world many times over, saved the mighty and the small, more of the latter than exist in all Asgard. She is a fighter for her people, a warrior who battles because she must, not for glory or power or love of battle. She did not choose this life; a magical bargain was forced upon her. Yet she does not shirk from her duty. She has fought without a prince's wealth or comfort, without trainers or friends, without accolades, without even the vista of a long life. She is aware that her kind do not endure in this fight. She knows she has to embrace whatever pleasure life offers before she is gone, and give that joy in kind. Yet you judge her inferior. You are afraid to even talk with her, lest your complacency about your superiority be challenged."

"Mind your words. I fear no woman such as she."

Loki sneered. "I would not have her meet you. You are not worthy of that privilege. It is petty ignorance that causes you to judge me, but I will not have her sullied by your base stupidity."

"She has fornicated with you in the open where anyone could watch."

"In the wilderness, far from others, as you have done yourself with a maid or two." Loki was not apologetic. A scornful irritation crossed his face. "And who would watch?"

"Heimdall."

"Then it no doubt proved instructive for him. When was the last time Heimdall associated with a woman?"

"Not only Heimdall. I am told S.H.I.E.L.D. has birds in the sky, much like our father's."

" _Your_ father. And you mean satellites." Loki paced the ground in a small circle, thinking, before he stopped and insisted, "You take the word of Heimdall, someone whose hatred of me is so great he would leave his post, leave Asgard unguarded, for the opportunity to slander me?"

"Asgard has always relied on his vision."

"Yes, you always take the words of your friends as true, even when they betray their king. You do not have a strategic mind."

Thor merely glowered at Loki.

"All the love you have for the beings on this planet, yet you can spare none for the one you call your brother."

"You nearly destroyed this planet. I have no pity for you."

"I don't ask for pity! I want respect, for my choices, for my life, for the person with whom I have chosen to share that life."

"I can see she has blinded you, as Barton warned me."

"On the contrary. She has opened my eyes. Because of her, I did not kill the humans who attacked me, nor did I kill the undead one who is her friend. I held my hand that could have been raised in righteous anger and showed forbearance, for her."

"Was it not because you knew Heimdall was watching and would report on your misdeeds?"

"That I fornicated in the open?" Loki said in disbelief, before turning on Thor with a livid expression. "I was exiled to Midgard and there met a mortal woman who showed me the way of her world. Through her, I have come to appreciate her world and even sacrifice for it. But because I am Loki, my motives must always be suspect, my heart always closed. I do exactly as you do, yet I cannot win approval from Asgard. It is maddening!"

"You have always been much better than I at this game of words. You can tell your tales to Asgard."

"Why can I not seek acceptance as you have done? Why must I always be judged corrupt? She has humbled me, and become my conscience."

"If your conscience is a woman who murders, then you are no better off than..."

"Then when I modeled my actions on your deeds?"

Thor shook his head with sadness. "You are mad, Loki, as ever, mad with jealousy."

A lifetime of frustration burst from Loki. "Mad? Who made me mad, Thor? Was madness always within me? Or was it formed by years of being made to feel lesser and wrong, of always being compared to the golden one and being found deficient, of being lied to about everything that comprised my entire life? You would take me back to Asgard, where my madness can be controlled by imprisonment in the death of a solitary cell. Or perhaps you really do believe the Aesir will accept me and my life will continue as before, merely because you command it to be so, that your word will protect me as it never did in the past. You cannot command their hearts. Your own heart condemns me! What place do I have in Asgard but as its shadow? What would I do there but continue to live in your shadow?

"But Thor, my life is no longer mine alone. You should rejoice in that. Instead, you denounce both me and the woman to whom I have given my affections and my loyalty; the woman who has given me the same, along with her acceptance, trust and devotion; the woman who bears my sons".

Thor's eyes widened. "You believe she is Sigyn."

Loki got that tight expression. "It may be so."

"But she is not a god, is not Vanir, as the prophecy foretold. She is a mortal. She has no place in Asgard."

"So, it is meet that you could choose a mortal, one who is truly such, and I should not?"

Thor's voice filled with anger and regret. "Mortals do not belong in Asgard. If it were possible, I would have remained with Jane on Midgard."

"And watch her wither and die?"

"As will this woman."

"No. Faith is imbued with the spirit of the Titans, those who ruled Midgard before the Aesir ever considered themselves gods, those who remain powerful beyond our realms. Faith and I will exist together for eons to come."

"Cease these delusions. Wanting them to be so does not make them real. I say this as one who has loved you as a brother."

Loki had built up a head of steam. "You do not know love. All you have known is the worship of those beneath you, who want your reflected glory. They do not look beyond the surface, nor do you. Two of these friends at least have loved you since childhood. They follow you everywhere because they cannot bear to lose sight of you. It was their deepest disappointment to see you with Jane Foster. Even though they are in your line of sight constantly, you are unaware of their feelings because it is inconvenient for you to know of these feelings, just as you knew nothing of my heart because I was never important enough for you to understand.

"You hold no love for who I am. You want me to be the imagined brother I never was, devoted to entertaining and placating you, to giving you counsel you are free to ignore. I never was that brother. I never will be. You cannot accept me as I am, for the worth I carry. You do not see me; you do not hear me; you do not care to change your view of me. You know nothing of love. Let us dispense with this farce and no longer call each other brother."

"You've always seen insults where others have seen jests. You are misguided. Instead of dealing directly in your grievances, you take a circuitous route and never come to the truth."

"Are your words meant to be jests, then? No, you decide something is true merely because you feel it is, with no further questioning, and all your actions follow that first impulse. You did that my whole life, projecting onto me the image of the little brother you wanted. And you once asked how you harmed me!"

"I know now who you are, Loki, have no fear of that." Thor replied in an ominous voice, his hands circling the edge of the net.

"Do you? I am a god who was raised to be a king. I am a powerful mind and more powerful curiosity. I am a creator and a destroyer. I am a lover of this woman and the father to her two sons. And I am not your brother, nor am I one who follows you or your brutal sense of what is right or just or good.

"Nothing I do, no-one I love, will ever be good enough for you or for those on Asgard. Loki must always be the lower being, the shadow. You would even drag down those who love me so you can stand taller. Mark me well, Thor, though you would belittle me and mine, I know my worth and the worth of those who now comprise my true family, my chosen family."

Thor was red with fury. He growled, "It matters not." He turned the net in his broad hands.

Loki appealed in a similar angry tone, "She carries my children, Thor, two sons. The Titan revealed this to us."

"Then my heart is heavy, Loki, but I must return you to Asgard."

Loki was almost hysterical with bitterness. "No. I will not leave her. I will not go back."

Faith was hesitant to get in the middle of a family squabble, because she'd seen how that went too many times. Both of them would probably turn on her. Still, that was better than them saying things they couldn't take back. Loki was flying off the handle and Thor was made of some kind of thick sludge. She didn't want him to take Loki away and put him in a prison where he might never be let free, where he would be alone and abandoned.

She stood next to Loki and said, "Listen, Thor. You're being a dick here."

Thor addressed her as he would something repugnant. "He made it possible for everyone you know to be destroyed."

"Yeah... well... almost everyone I know has tried to destroy the Earth, but it's still here."

"It is as Barton said. You are depraved."

"No, it's Lehane."

Thor furrowed his brows.

"I don't care what you say about me, but you gotta know that Loki came back to _save_ the world, not just this one, but all nine of them. And thank goodness Loki had magic to make this right. What I'm saying is, he's not evil and he's not insane."

She could see the veins stand out on Thor's arms. He was just getting madder, not listening to anyone. Still, she couldn't stop.

"Look, forget what your dad would want you to do and think for yourself. And then, if you still want to take Loki back, well, you'll have to come through me. I love him and he's the father of my children. We're not hurting anybody. So I suggest you leave us alone."

Thor was scowling at her as if she was a particularly infuriating insect. Loki even pulled away from her, but it was only to stand in front of her. That irritated Faith. She didn't need protecting.

Thor informed her, "You cannot defeat me."

"If we find out that's true, then I want to go to prison with him."

Thor replied with heavy sadness, "This cannot be."

Thor looked at the net in his hands, his face changing from sorrow to resolve. He swung the net over his head. It unfurled in a wide circle. He cast the net to fall over Loki.

It went right through Loki, who disappeared like smoke the minute it touched him. It hit Faith instead. She fell to the ground screaming from the searing torture of what felt like sharp pin pricks or biting knife wounds where the net's strings touched her.

"Faith!" Loki cried out.

A blizzard of knives hissed through the air to fall on Thor's armored body. Loki appeared beside her and magicked the net off her body with a hand gesture. He picked her up, gently cradled her by her back, where the net hadn't fallen, and disappeared with her into another black cyclone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this last November for NaNoWriMo, which is primarily why revisions are so very necessary. I was amazed when someone named "kronos999" left kudos. What a coincidence! Of course, I'm off the Marvel canon about Kronos, but even there, the question seems to be, "What is continuity?"


	21. In A Cold Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith and Loki face loss and hard choices. Warning: If you know the fate of Loki's children in myth, you know their fate it this story.

A thousand fangs penetrated Faith's body as Thor's net fell on her. She could only scream once as venom traveled to every part of her bloodstream. Once the poison filled her, despite wanting to cry out and writhe in agony, she couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't help herself. Being aware of the paralysis made her suffering worse.

At least she could still breathe. She could still hear. She could still sense hunger and cold, and terrible pain. She could still see. Her eyelids still opened and shut automatically, but she couldn't control them.

She could feel her sons tumbling within her, as if they were fighting the effects of the poison, as if one was trying to tear the other apart. Every twist and kick made her want to yell out, but she was silent. She was terrified for them, but there was nothing she could do.

From what she could see, Loki had brought her back to the Frost Giant cave. He placed her on a broad platform of blue ice and rock that was covered with furs. He paced the floor in a furious back-and-forth motion visible on the periphery of her sight.

"I must find help," he said to her. "I am sorry to leave you alone, but I must find help."

She thought she saw him change shape. He was blue as a dusty blueberry and... female? He looked like a young teenage girl, though still as tall as the adult Loki. He was naked to the waist except for a fur cape thrown over his shoulders. He wore a short leather skirt. Lines accented with gold paint ran along his body and circled his tiny breasts. His eyes burned red like two hot coals.

"I will return as soon as I am able."

He came to check on her, but stood off to the side, so she couldn’t really see him. He brushed a cold, blue hand over her forehead. She wanted to yell at him to stop, to help their sons, but she couldn't form the words. She felt a tear drop on her cheek, followed by a kiss to brush it away, his cool breath whispering words of love, asking again for forgiveness. His molten eyes were those of Earth-bound demons, but they looked at her with obvious worry and regret. Then, he disappeared.

Faith could not say how long she waited. The battle in her womb had ended. Her children no longer moved. Her throat was so tight with tears she thought she would choke. At least that would have stopped the pain. Being immobile seemed to have dulled it to a low roar. She wondered if the Titan's daughter had been helping her.

She listened to the whistle of the wind outside the cave and thought, "The net was a trap meant for Loki." Her heart filled with bitterness towards Thor and Asgard. She would never forgive them.

The girl Loki returned and repaired the broken scepter. He took it and gathered her in his arms, causing Faith to silently scream in agony. He raced with her through the byways of Yggdrasil until he came to another cave with two blue women easily twice his height. The giants were dressed like him, wearing only leather skirts, their bodies outlined in a red paint that looked like dried blood. Each of their breasts was easily the size of Faith's head.

The women started when they saw Faith, but Loki was adamant in his directions to them, speaking in a language Faith couldn't understand. Despite his entreaties, the women balked at getting near Faith. Loki touched his scepter to their hearts, and the women became calm. Their eyes lightened to a violet blue.

One woman removed Faith's clothes. If she could have, Faith would have kicked her helpers away. It felt as if they were tearing the flesh from her bones. The pain was so intense, she blacked out, only to be awakened by the next jolt.

The woman put a cup to Faith's lips and let a thick soup trickle down her throat. Faith felt her womb constrict. The giantess set something between Faith's legs, but when she touched Faith, she growled and fell to the ground, from where she lunged at Loki. He pointed the scepter and shot something at her. The woman seemed to collapse with a howl on the floor of the cave.

Loki seemed horrified at the giant woman's behavior and whatever was wrong with Faith. He seemed at a loss for what to do next. All he could do was give orders to the other giantess, who showed no concern for her friend.

The woman put on roughly-made gloves made of thick hide. She set about removing Faith's dead sons, muttering words Faith couldn't understand. Loki remained silent. Faith couldn't see him.

The tall woman cleaned Faith with a cloth soaked with freezing water and put some sort of catheter into her. She wrapped Faith's naked body tightly in furs. She spooned water into Faith's mouth. It felt like swallowing knives. She couldn't ask the woman to stop.

When the woman finished with Faith, she spoke to Loki with obvious kindness. Loki's voice was a growl full of desperation, but the woman answered with resigned patience.

Loki came over to Faith and whispered in an apologetic and frustrated tone, "She says you are in pain, but she has no ready remedy for that. I will return for a remedy later." He transported Faith back to his cave and placed her on the rock, piling more furs atop her.

She was exhausted and down, but she did not sleep. Loki curled up in a ball next to her, but didn't touch her. Faith was thankful for that. The pain was beginning to settle into something less terrible.

"Please forgive me," he asked in a small voice. She couldn't tell him that she didn't blame him. He didn't use the net. Thor did that. Loki had only tried a trick and it failed. He couldn't have predicted what would happen.

He made himself even smaller. She heard quiet sobs from him. She felt the same way, bereft, uncomprehending. But even if they weren't talking or holding each other, they shared their mourning at the loss of their children. Even if they couldn't communicate, they were together in their sorrow.

They remained close for what seemed like several days. Time was different in the Frost Giant cave. It never seemed to be purely day or night. The space was continually engulfed in a blue twilight. The wind blew with varied ferocity, but it never stopped whistling past the cave entrance. The space was warm, however, as Loki promised it would be.

He took care of her. He emptied the basin that the catheter must have run into. Though he used the healer's gloves, the poison in her system would burn his hands if the basin spilled or the catheter dripped on him. The first time it happened, he cried out, then growled. He disappeared in a flash and came back hours later. He didn't comment on what had happened.

When he emptied the basin thereafter, he would be unable to move his hands for hours. Still, he never stopped emptying the basin when needed.

He dripped water into her mouth. Other than giving her water and turning her body, he touched her as little as possible. When he touched her, he told her how much he loved her, something he only did once on Earth, though she thought she always knew it.

Loki talked to her constantly when he was in the cave. He told her things he might never have shared had she been active. Maybe confronting Thor had opened the floodgates, or maybe having Faith immobile next to him had shaken his confidence. She wondered if he talked to her because he thought she couldn't hear, or if he wanted her to hear. He must have been incredibly lonely, judging by how he seemed to need her understanding and approval. She knew what that was like, hating yourself, having no-one to talk to, feeling all-consuming anger and guilt and a desire to hurt others as you'd been hurt. She knew it, and when she could raise her heart above her own misery, she worried about him, worried that he was losing his grip.

Loki's sorrow soon turned to fierce bitterness towards Thor and Odin. He began to rave about the retribution he would take. He said for every sorrow they had caused him and Faith, they would pay ten-fold.

Faith felt only emptiness and a sense of being lost. Her only bearing was Loki, raging at her side about how he should have ended Odin's life when he had the chance. She wanted to sleep, but was unable to even rest.

She wondered if Loki blamed himself for what happened to her. She wondered if he felt as helpless as she did.

One day, after being unusually quiet and immobile, he told her about falling into the Void. He was sitting next to her, gazing at her face, when he whispered, "Your vampire told you I tried to kill myself." He lowered his eyes. "I did try to end my life. I had not planned to." He stared at the ceiling, tears welling in his eyes. "The story is long, but like you, I once felt I could do no right no matter how I tried. Then I discovered the secret kept from me my entire life, a truth that laid waste to my view of myself and my place in Asgard. When I tried to deny this truth, I found out how wrong those who called themselves my family in fact found me to be. And so, at the edge of a drop into oblivion, I simply let go. The fear of facing death was less than the pain of their judgment and their rejection."

Faith felt her heart grow heavy, sinking like a stone in her chest. Her throat tightened again with tears. She remembered the cliff on the mountain and her concern for him.

"I fell for a great distance into the Void. You have seen it, the dark emptiness that penetrates one's being. I was found by the Chitauri barely alive on a scrap of rock to which I managed to cling. They brought me to their master, Thanos." He tensed and swallowed audibly. "Forgive me if I do not talk of that time, for I fervently wish to forget it. If I remained sane, it was by the thread of hope that my family would search to reclaim my body, and that in so doing, they would find and free me. But save one, they never set out to look, nor even consulted Heimdall, the one who sees all, who had to know of my fate. And thus again without hope, with my world constricted, my only thought became that of pleasing my captor in order to stay alive, at least long enough to shame my family for its bad faith."

He took several quaking breaths and swallowed hard, then continued. "As for the assault on your Earth... It is true that conquering your realm appealed to me, and the Chitauri knew that, or rather, I let them know it. Midgard is supposedly under Thor's protection, and I ... as you have seen, Thor is my enemy now. Despite the idyllic stories I have told you, Thor has always been the one most set against me.

"I seized on the idea of capturing Midgard because I knew this would convince the aliens I was sincere, when what I truly sought was escape. I did not expect to be accompanied by the Chitauri army, but Thanos insisted. Despite obtaining my oath in blood, he did not trust me.

"Their army certainly did not follow my orders. I couldn't control the Chitauri, aliens you call them. I was forced to bring them to Midgard. It was the price of my freedom. I was further watched by their master through the tools they gave me to fight my war, and bound by those tools to wage the war.

"No matter. I decided to make the best of the situation. It was not ideal, but once a plan unfolds, it is difficult to move away from it, especially when there is no other place to tread. The welcome given me by Asgard's hero when he first appeared in Midgard showed me that. His mind was set against me. Any acceptance he offered came far too late, and as always, on his terms, with no question as to my motives, with no recognition of my merit.

"Ultimately, I sabotaged the aliens by directing the scientist who worked with me to build a fail-safe that would restrict or stop the Chitauri access to Midgard. Without my plan, he would not have had the will to disobey me. But I was determined to mount this rebellion. My would-be allies never realized that I am no-one’s creature."

He looked at her with a sad expression. "I have told no-one of this. No-one would listen, believing all I say to be lies."

He shifted into himself. "I was captured by the behemoth you humans call the Hulk. I was returned to Asgard in chains and a gag, given to Thor by Odin, who always had a flare for the dramatic. Before my return, he told those in Asgard that I had been torn apart in the Void, then he told them I was evil. No-one in Asgard questioned Odin's pronouncements.

"And thus, Odin imprisoned me for attacking Midgard, a place he had no care for in an earlier age. I was treated as the lowest subject of the realm and forced to submit to the whim of the king. As he now hates me, hate being easier to admit than the treachery of his professed love, he condemned me to death. Only his lady queen's pleas spared my life. I had only a brief moment to hold her vision again. Thor, the one who once claimed to be my protector, walked away without a word. I was left to fester in endless tedium and useless isolation, encased for the most in quiet but for the sound of my voice, severed from the use of my senses. Until Asgard had need of me.

"I do not know why I did not refuse. Their enemies, briefly held to question before they met a dishonorable death, were not necessarily mine enemies. What did I care for the problems of Asgard? They never respected me, never saw me as anything but weak and flawed ... until they had use of me. Then, they pinched their noses and stooped to back alleys and sorcery, still pretending those ways beneath them, firm in their belief that I was beneath them. Ignorant, all of them.

"And when I had suffered a blow that should have been fatal to save their hero, when I later saved their stale state, they averred that there was no hope for me, none but to cut me off from their society so their hearts could rest quiet. Again, why did I agree to help?" He looked down at his hands and said in a quieter voice, "He said he no longer knew me. He swore to me that he would kill me, inevitably. As I had recently lost all solace, it was a challenge I could not reject."

She knew he was talking about his brother and their complicated relationship. She wished she could have said something. While he never seemed suicidal to her, she could understand getting someone else to do it. She ran headlong into that scene, dragging as much pain as she could with her. If she hurt, damn it, everyone was going to hurt. If they hated her, might as well give them a reason. Made it easier. Gave them incentive. Got them off the hook. No-one could have hated herself as much as she did, anyway. But she had her fists and her weapons. He sat in a cell, isolated, with nothing to do. Knowing him, that must have been worse. Anything to make it end... and his brother promised to end it for him. What kind of brother would say that?

She remembered the last time she talked to her father when she was a kid, catching him up on all that happened since he left, telling him about her mother's friends, if you could call them that. He only got angry that her mother had friends. He told Faith he should have killed her mother when he had a chance. He just said that to her like it was nothing.

What do you say to your father who tells you he should have killed your mother, who felt like it was his right? She was shocked, so she pretended she didn't hear it. Like when bad things happened and she would go someplace else, like nothing bad was really happening to her, it was someone else. So with her dad, she pretended everything was fine, just a normal conversation.

But it stayed with her ever since. It took her a long time to realize who he was wasn't her fault. It took her a long time to realize she hadn't betrayed her mother; she was just a kid. It took her a long time to realize she became her father ultimately, because that's what strength looked like to her when she was growing up, the feeling you had the right to take someone's life and it didn't matter.

Loki sighed. "What could I say, but yes?" Loki looked at her from beneath his long lashes. "He needed my help."

Faith knew that Loki wasn't who they said he was. He was worth so much more. She was sorry his family treated him the way they did, like their kick dog. It was wrong. He had everything to offer them. They just wouldn't let him.

He began to tremble with rage. "They did need me, eventually, stupidly, selfishly. Though I sacrificed much to please them, they caused the loss of all I valued. When they were finished with me, they cast me off to Midgard, so they would never have to see me again and face the wrong of their actions. But I am not so easily pacified."

Faith measured his words in her heart, and knew they held the truth, as he saw it. She'd met Thor. She'd lost the family she hoped for as a result of Odin's magic. If Loki had problems, it was because of Odin and Thor. She was profoundly sorry for the unhappiness he had endured, evident in the shifting aspects of his face, in the whine and growl of his voice, the anguished clenching and gesturing of his hands in the furs on their bed. She wanted to lay her hand on his chest, to give him a peaceful place where he was accepted and loved.

He looked at her with his eyes that seemed to change color with every emotion he held. He smiled at her in wonder. "It was foretold to me that I would marry an accomplished and loving goddess. I came to believe that goddess was you. You are strong and honest and true to me, as she was to have been. There is nothing I would not share with you, nothing I would not do for you. You are my heart, Faith, and my future.

"The goddess promised to me was to bear me two sons." He choked, his voice constricted. "Our sons, killed by Odin's magic, the one turned into a beast, and as such, he made the other his victim. This evil magic affects Frost Giants, the healer and me. It affected our son. Odin learned much from his war against Jotunheim.

"He took them from us. They had not even drawn breath."

Faith felt the pull of anguish again. She fell into it like a full body dive into the water of an endless, murky pool that threatened to obliterate her existence with its cold weight. Loki drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He hugged them close and buried his head on his knees. After several minutes, he looked up with furious, glistening eyes.

"The venom contained Odin's magic, a spell to act only on Frost Giant minds, to turn them into savage, wolf-like beasts. Beyond the magic, the venom itself causes paralysis. Had the net fallen on me, I would have attacked Thor in the form of a wolf and shortly thereafter been paralyzed, unable to act when Thor was forced to defend himself. Thor would have killed me and been justified. A clever strategy, really."

Faith wasn't sure what was worse, the idea that anyone could do this to somebody else, let alone a father to the son he raised, or the fact that Loki casually accepted it as par for the course and a good plan, showing no outrage except for his innocent son.

If anything, Loki was angriest at Thor for going along with the plan. Faith wondered why he even bothered with Thor. It was obvious to her that Thor thought nothing of Loki, despite his "I'm sorry" and big face of regret. It was obvious that Thor wanted Loki to be the person he wanted Loki to be, but didn't really believe in Loki's ability to be that person. He wasn't interested in who Loki really was. He didn't seem to like who Loki really was.

Thor was full of noble pain, the kind that Angel and Buffy got when they acted like they were above everyone else in the stuff they had to deal with. Faith had grown pretty tired of the "suffering for you all" attitude.

She could see that it hurt Loki. "How could Thor trust that monster with my welfare? Thor, the great fool. He should have known better, but his judgment is null when it comes to me. He has convinced himself he will never understand me, and so takes in every poisoned word meant to slander me as truth."

Faith knew what that was like, being a woman people always had something bad to say about, having known guys just too lazy to get to know her, who pretended she was some stereotype or mystery, who were always ready to believe the worst 'cause it got them out of being responsible or thoughtful. They would tell her what she was thinking or assume she was plotting, when they had no clue who she was. Sometimes she became the thing they feared and hated so much, just to spite them. It was weird how that worked.

She figured Loki never got a chance to be real, either.

"It was at Odin's behest that Thor brought a gag and shackles to Midgard to first capture me. There was never to be an attempt to reconcile. Thor's actions indicated this, at first. He threw me to the ground and asked only after the Tesseract, not his brother so long missing, so wrongly done by. When Thor returned me to Asgard, he believed me mad, but never once did he ask why that should be so, judging it was jealousy, never knowing it was much more. I was shunned by Asgard so as not to corrupt the minds of the gods. What weaklings are they, to fear poison in my words. Odin told tales of my poison when I showed none to Asgard. But I honed my mind in prison. I was ready to pay them back with every lie they ever told about me, and more."

Faith knew prison did that to people, made them harder, fixated on revenge. Prison also gave them links to other criminals and their networks. Prisons weren't built for reform. She'd been in one, after all. It did nothing for her on the outside except make it harder to get a job. It also made her determined to do whatever she needed to never return to jail.

Loki was contemplative. "Had I only weapons to defeat Thor, I would not have deceived him and put you in his path. But had he dropped the net on me, I might have harmed you myself. This venom which your body holds as a vessel, for my sake, affects mortals with paralysis and continued pain. This the healer told me, but I had known it already. It is beyond her knowledge to lift the curse. I promise I will find a way to free you, though I spend all my days in the pursuit."

That promise got him out of the cave and into action. She had to admit, he was resilient and resolute in general. He was a man of action. But whatever he had been through, she had to wonder how much it affected his personality and his choices. He seemed strong-willed and patient, and very perceptive. Still, anyone could get into bad patterns in their personalities, especially when all they got was negative input and rejection.

One day, Loki replaced the water he fed her with something that tasted like apple juice. His face was scrunched up in worry as he spooned it in her mouth. He whispered, "I pray I am not prolonging your plight, but you must eat and retain your strength. This should give you nourishment and replenishment."

It tasted amazing, probably the best apple juice she'd ever had. Even swallowing was less of an endurance test than it usually was. She felt worlds better, though she still couldn't move. He whispered, "I hope I am not condemning you to this state forever, but I cannot lose you."

He changed the subject with a casual, almost pleased tone. "I traveled to Asgard today, to Idunn's orchards. Everything on Asgard is watched and overheard, as you know. The guardian at the gate, Heimdall, hears all that happens in his world, and watches all the worlds along Yggdrasil. I long ago learned to avoid his eye. No other on Asgard ever bothered to trick him. They walked along the approved path and never deviated.

"I was born deviant, though I knew not why. I learned to walk unexplored paths to avoid detection, for diversion more than devilry. Those who knew of my wanderings feared to follow. They lacked the proper skills of observation.

"Heimdall may watch, but he does not move from his post. If something is amiss, he will not move to report it. He has messengers, of course, as the king has observers, but they are slow and do not transmit an accurate picture.

"As well, Heimdall's mind is his own. He thinks in the narrow track of most in Asgard, focusing on those who seem to inspire mistrust, but avoiding the doings of nobility and royalty. The safest place to express oneself was by the crown prince's side or in the palace, where lie the rows of apples."

He laughed. She felt a little frantic that he put himself in so much danger for some fruit.

He continued, "And then, back to this place. Most of the time, the atmosphere of Jotunheim shields the realm from the eyes of Heimdall. This is why the giants have been such formidable enemies of the Aesir.

"This cave is shielded from the gaze of all, as I trust no-one." He paused in thought, then smiled at her. "Except you."

His talk usually took her mind off herself, but sometimes he would rave about the wrongs done to him. Sometimes he would mourn the death of his sons. Sometimes he would threaten to rain destruction upon Asgard for the hurt they caused him. She was concerned about him, then.

She wondered if she was right in supporting him. Spike said she saw things Loki's way because she was with him 24/7 and didn't see anyone else. It wasn't like that, though. Nobody but her was lying on this rock, nobody but her felt the pain and imprisonment meant for Loki, if he survived an attack by Thor. Sure, Loki tried to mess up Earth a couple of times. That probably should have bothered her more. Maybe working with Angel made her willing to see the other side of things. Angel hurt more people than Loki ever had, but he was a hero, a champion. And so was Loki, really. He went back to fix what he got wrong. She had to believe in him.

It worried her that she loved someone who could think of wiping out an entire planet without seeing how that was wrong. But then, the U.S. had blown up whole cities for what it felt was a greater purpose. Before that, it killed whole tribes for no reason at all. Loki told her the government was going to nuke New York to get rid of his alien army. These things weren't unusual. If it was one person instead of a state, however, it was easier to fix the blame. One person rarely acts alone, though.

She thought of all the people in Earth's history who had died needlessly because of one person, all the hopes and dreams destroyed. How could she embrace someone who couldn't see the value of other people's lives? But he just didn't. She could probably count on one hand the number of people he really cared about. Maybe it was just her, now.

Maybe not caring about others was the way he was raised, to be above personal considerations, to rule without favorites, to be ready to fight any enemy, even the least likely ones. Maybe it was growing up in a place always training for war, where danger could always be out there. Enemies were reduced to ugly creatures, never seen as people with complicated lives.

Battle on Asgard sounded like a game where the warriors kept score and the top dog piled up the deadest bodies. That might have been the way Loki was raised, to be competitive, especially when it came to racking up corpses. She'd seen that on Earth, too, like that _Lord of the Rings_ movie, where the faceless enemy just kept coming because that's what they did while Legolas and Gimli kept count of how many they killed.

She couldn't see Loki enjoying the kill count. She couldn't believe he wanted to be a mass-murderer. He liked to learn and try new things. He liked to make stuff. He was a smart guy. He would have known violence only creates more violence. He always told her about the lives he was trying to save through his actions.

Still, he was a ruler who did what he had to do. She would have wiped out every Turok-Han vampire in the Hellmouth if she could, and would have used anything to do it, the bigger, the better. Maybe that's how he saw those who weren't from Asgard, as potential monsters, even the ones less strong than him.

Lots of people could take lives, she thought, if they hurt enough, if they were angry enough. Most of those tragedies could have been prevented if someone had been brave enough to intervene. Xander held Willow back from the brink. Angel stopped Faith, first from killing Wesley, then from killing herself. She tried to do the same for Angel. It was hard work, hanging in there at all costs. Nobody had done that for Loki.

She thought too much. She worried about him, when she was actually driving _herself_ crazy. When he was gone, she got lonely and bored. She tried to replay her past fights in her mind, but who was she kidding? She could never consciously live in the past.

She remembered what Kronos said, about Slayers only using part of their potential. She knew she'd experienced telepathy once, with Buffy. Of course, she had been in a coma at the time, and Buffy had been out, too. Her current situation was as good as a coma, she figured.

She tried to reach Chimera. Nothing happened. But one night, as Loki lay beside her, quiet and possibly asleep, she finally drifted into a dream state. Instead of reaching the spirit within her, however, she dreamed about Loki.

She was back on Earth, with two babies in her arms, sitting in a cabin overlooking a meadow swaying with wildflowers and bees. Beyond the meadow was a pond made of snow melt, hopping with tiny frogs, and a mountain carpeted by the tops of pine trees with snow still gleaming at the rocky peak. It was like a fairytale, the colors richer than real life, like a painting. In her dream, she could breathe the air, clean and cold. She could hear the birds and the wind.

She was waiting for Loki to come home. She said, "I miss you" out loud. A tear fell from her eye. It hit the swaddled babies and disappeared. Even though she held them, they seemed far away from her.

She heard a hawk cry and caught sight of it above the meadow. Her eyes followed its graceful movements as it sailed the air currents, wound before the trees and danced above the grass. It was small, bright and red.

A flock of five birds swept out of the grass and attacked the hawk to drive it away. The hawk bounced gaily into the air, toying with the larger, clumsier birds, but it was obvious it couldn't hold out against them forever.

The hawk flew towards the edge of the forest, darting along the branches of the tall pines. Faith's heart froze. The forest was thick and dark with old trees. The hawk didn't belong there. Its prey was the mice in the warm, shining grass, not the predators in the deep shadows.

A giant eagle swept out of the branches and caught the hawk in a huge foot, sinking its talons into the tiny bird's side. The hawk screeched in pain. There was no answer to its cries. The eagle held the hawk to peck at it, to examine it. The hawk bleated its protest.

The eagle released its claws and let the hawk go. The hawk struggled through the sky and collapsed in the grass. The hawk arose a short time later, holding a blue and brown songbird even smaller than it was, hauling the bird back to the eagle, which captured the songbird in its talons and dismissed the hawk with a slash of its wings, knocking the hawk from the treetops.

The hawk tumbled, landing on the ground in a heap. As it fell, Faith saw the meadow slowly turn brown, then gray, the grass dying. The group of birds that attacked the hawk earlier descended on it again, striking blows with their beaks, feet and wings. Faith wanted to run out into the meadow, to save the small hawk, but she knew walking through the grass would be hazardous and she couldn't leave her children alone. Again, she wished that Loki was there.

Then the dream turned and she realized that Loki _was_ there, was just out of sight. He was hiding, even from her, though he looked longingly in her direction. He turned his head towards the dark, as if he was searching for something, or maybe waiting. His whole body was small, as if he was ashamed, then he drew himself into his tattered pride and stood without apology.

Something caught his attention. He swung around furiously to confront the interruption, his hair and jacket swirling with the abrupt motion, his attention on the intruder in the dark. The scepter appeared in his hand, and he strode off to confront whatever he had seen.

He had been so near. When she called out to him, he disappeared further into the shadowy margins of the dream. She heard his voice, however. It without hope as he said he was sorry.

Faith came awake with a startled awareness. Loki was awake by her side, propped on one arm, searching her face with apprehension and deep thoughtfulness in his eyes. He acted like he was trying to figure out what had happened. She was sure he had shared her dream. It hadn't felt like a dream to her. Maybe it felt different for him, too.

But since they couldn't talk about it, she soon forgot about the dream.

Chimera eventually began to seep into her thoughts in the form of a series of pictures, the lives of past Slayers. It was interesting, if it didn’t make sense to Faith. It was only when Faith saw the death of a Slayer potential in England who had been alive when Faith left, who couldn't fight back in the vision, that she got concerned. She should have been back on Earth, being a Slayer. Maybe Chimera was trying to remind her of that.

Meanwhile, Loki continued talking to Faith. She wondered if this was the only thing keeping him sane. It made her furious she couldn't talk to him and give him the balance he needed. She'd dealt with things all alone, and she always ended up making bad decisions because of it.

When he emptied the basin, far from her bed, he would curse his fate. Maybe he was angry for losing her, for losing their sons. Her heart ached at the burden he carried, though she was the one bearing the poison for him. They were both bound to that place, with no end in sight.

He would move her every few hours to keep her blood flowing, though he knew it hurt her. It was a chance for him to hold her in his arms. Even in his cold embrace, she was warm. She remembered the bleak iciness of the cave and felt warmer still. Keeping the heat on must have made him uncomfortable, but he never commented on it.

Eventually, Loki learned of a witch who was skilled in snake lore. She inspired fear in the other female giants, who talked about her reluctantly and indirectly. All he knew was that she was called the Witch of the Ironwood. She was said to reject the company of giants and keep the creatures of the forest as her companions.

What seemed like every day, Loki would leave to look for the giantess in the forests where she was said to live. He assumed the form of a girl.

"You might wonder why I take the form of a female.

"I learned long ago that the Jotun would choose their sex as they approached adolescence, though most made their selection at an earlier age. I found this practice fascinating when I first read of it, but I soon learned it was one of the reasons the Aesir considered the Jotnar to be degenerate monsters.

"As Kronos told us, under the fear of attack by Asgard, female giants were ordered by their sovereign to travel to the palace and become male. This was all done under the influence of the Casket of Ancient Winters, the source of Jotun power. Some females refused, however. They hid themselves in the wild forests to avoid the order.

"Thus, there are very few female giants, and those who chose to remain so hide themselves still. While the men train for war, the women learn potions and healing. They continue to pursue ancient rites and ways. They may choose a mate, but they raise their daughters separate from the males, allowing them to choose mates at adolescence.

"As the women are the healers, I have sought a cure among them. To approach them, I have appeared as a girl, someone they will trust. I tell them I am seeking a teacher and show them rudimentary spell casting to convince them I have promise, but no skill. As no male Jotnar can or would revert to a female form, the women accept me. That I can spell cast at all, a talent lost to most of them, intrigues them. I represent the hope of recovering lost magic beyond possession of the Casket.

"I have only approached the men in Aesir form in the past, and I avoid them now. I would have to be male to be heard by them."

He sounded bitter. "They have been corrupted by the Aesir in this. Once they were ruled by a queen. They now strive to emulate the warriors of Asgard. They will never succeed for the simple reason that Asgard uses magic, for all that Aesir warriors will deny it. Their greatest weapon, Mjolnir, Thor's hammer, is magical technology worth a division of gods in battle. Though Thor is renowned as a fighter, he fights from afar and rarely touches his enemies with his hands or gets close enough for injury. Mjolnir settles his disputes."

He hesitated before confessing, "Even though the Jotun males are deluded about the power of Asgard, I have determined to find the name of a Jotun male to whom I may reveal myself, someone of sufficient status to allow me to be heard by more males. I am their king, though they do not yet know this. I would rule this realm and improve the existence of those who live here."

Faith wished she could say something to stop him from pursuing such a high-profile job, but she was pretty sure once he put his mind to it, he would become king of the Frost Giants.

Loki may have sensed her reservations. "I was raised to be a king. I was true to my people when I did rule. I would rule again. I know no other way. To wander throughout the universe, to settle into an obscure life -- these are not choices for me. I must ascend a throne. I would show them I can be a good leader."

His voice grew gentle. "You would be my queen and rule with me. They would be blessed indeed to know your wisdom and beauty and fierce heart. I would count myself honored to have you by my side. If I am honest, there is only one in this world that holds interest for me, and that is you. All others are too limiting for one such as I. I have long wanted to make you my queen."

Faith listened to him, wondering when he'd lost touch with reality. She never planned to be a queen. Being a Slayer was enough of a stretch. At that moment, all she wanted was to stop hurting and move again. She trusted Loki to make that happen.

Loki's plan to become king went better than his search for the witch who could help her. He revealed himself as male to the female Jotnar. They recognized him immediately as the son of Laufey. He told them he was taken captive by Odin as a hostage to ensure peace. He told them he was kept small in stature by magic so he would be no threat to Odin's son, just as Jotunheim was kept in poverty and isolation so it would be no threat to Asgard. He had escaped and sought to pay the Aesir back for withholding his rightful heritage from him, for in fact destroying his realm out of spite before he could claim it. He blamed Asgard for the destruction of Jotunheim, for wasn't he their friend, wasn't he the one who tried to even the playing field by returning the Casket to its rightful owners, those who still had the potential to overrun Asgard and dethrone its tyrant? He convinced the female giants it was Thor who killed their king, then wreaked havoc on their world. He said he wanted revenge, and the power to exact that revenge. He would teach them all they needed to know about Asgard, and more, find them allies in other oppressed realms.

Faith had not heard about the destruction of Jotunheim. If what Loki said was true, then Asgard was an evil place. Much of it sounded true, but a lot of it sounded like one of his excited stories. But why would he lie to them? And what would it matter if he did? He was their king. If only she could talk to him, to find out the truth, to prevent him from going overboard with his embellishments.

He had promised her that he would tell her the truth. She realized he didn't tell her the time period that promise covered.

Loki began to meet those who had been mates of the giantesses, and these males introduced him to other males. Soon, all Jotunheim was caught up in his fury. The inhabitants longed for revenge on Asgard as much as Loki did.

His words worked their power. Jotunheim was so alone among realms, he believed that nobody heard any story contrary to his. If they did, they preferred to believe Loki. He boasted he had all of Jotunheim mobilized to believe he would lead them in battle against Asgard. In his often conflicted way, he told Faith he hadn't decided whether he was going to lead them into battle right away. They needed training and an increase in their numbers. He could weaken Asgard in other ways while Jotunheim trained.

Loki was full of high spirits. "They begin to recognize me as their rightful king. They are not such primitives as I learned in Asgard." But it wasn't all good news. "They have been polluted by Aesir values. The men do not accept me wholeheartedly. My size and the fact that I have hair on my head mark me for derision. Males are bald. Only women grow hair on their heads."

Faith recognized that even as he was getting his mojo back, he was defaulting to the cool pose, that attitude that helped the guys she knew cope with the rejection and injustice in their lives, that helped them move forward with dignity, but also the thing that kept them distant from others, especially those who could support them. She'd been the queen of cool at one time. She understood it. He couldn't leave himself vulnerable.

He shook his head. "I was taught to hate and fear Jotunheim as a youth. I was taught to abhor it as a land of savages. I later was told I was abandoned in Jotunheim to die at birth. I tried to retaliate against the Jotnar, in particular the one I believed to be my birth father. For this Asgard called me a criminal, but the Aesir also inflicted crimes upon me. Even my adoptive mother colluded to keep the truth from me, she who later pled for my life, even knowing I no longer had use of it. When I found out the truth of my birth, I believed my real mother had let me go thousands of years ago. But I see now she was powerless to prevent Odin from fleeing with me. She had lost the Casket and her power. And when I met her, I believed her love for me had grown as cold as this wintry land."

Faith knew that the father Loki met had really been his mother, according to Kronos. Loki had never known that, though. There was so much he never knew. Loki's life had been far more complicated and unfair than Faith's had ever been.

Loki turned to look at Faith, his face full of affection. "I had a lifetime of talking to myself, you know. I had grown so tired of it. Then I met you. You were there to listen to me and to challenge me, and to comfort me. You will be fully with me again. I will bring you back." And Faith wondered if was talking to her, or to someone who had become more like a statue in a shrine, or a reliquary.

Happily, a side-effect of Loki's outreach to the giants was the discovery of the giantess in the forest. She had heard of Loki through excited gossip. She found him as he made his rounds.

The virtuosity of her magic was such that Loki could not fix his eyes on her, and yet, she didn't use a spell. She created a cloud of glittering dust that made her seem to stand behind a shifting curtain of light on which his eyes could not focus. 

She knew why Loki had been seeking her. She gave Loki her terms for reviving his human companion.

Loki came back to the cave in an epic bad mood. He told Faith he had found the witch. When he came to the terms, he exploded in rage.

"She wants to bear my children! The gall of this vile female, this grasping quim, to think she can order me to her bed to serve as a stud for her ill-gotten brood.”

He crashed the furniture nearest him into the walls with a burst of magic. If Faith could have raised her eyebrows, she would have.

After cursing and destroying things, he calmed down enough to explain, "Jotnar fertility has always been low. Many adolescents in the past chose a sex that nature perhaps did not mean for them to choose, rendering them infertile. Males are few now and less able to father children, and most are females who became male to fight the war. This is an aging and sterile society, on the verge of extinction.

"Then there is me. I was born male, and Odin forced maleness upon me thereafter, as did Asgard, which shamed males who showed female interests. I never had the opportunity to choose, as Jotnar children did. Thus, the witch believes I am one of the few true males in Jotunheim.

"She says I have proven with you that I can father children and quickly. I can father more than one child at a time. I can father children across species. 

"She believes her children with me would be as well-formed as I, and small, an advantage when traveling between realms."

Loki agonized over the witch's terms. It wasn't such a big deal to Faith, except for the value he put on it.

"I have done such things to survive as would cause you to hang your head and walk away from me. Though I once sought oblivion, and in the Void, I would have welcomed the release of death, instead I betrayed Odin's legacy stolen from me, all to live another day without pain and fear, perchance to find in that day a purpose. It amused Thanos to give me that purpose and the tools to achieve it, double-edged swords all. What had he to lose, no matter my triumph or defeat? Death is what he loved, and never an easy death. He brought me to the brink of it for his amusement, and he almost achieved what he wanted when Thor returned me to Asgard.

"Who else have I betrayed to survive another day? In Asgard, I took advantage of Thor's gullibility, but who wouldn't? He begs to be made the dupe.

"Of all the things I might do, I would not betray you. But if this deed will release you, I do not see how I can refuse, or even delay."

He emptied the basin, which gave him the opportunity to curse and cry without having to admit he might have reasons other than the poison. His anger shook the ground and caused blocks of ice to fall past the cave entrance. He seemed not to notice or care.

But he came back and apologized.

"It is not my wish to frighten you with my emotions, these sentiments which have no place in the world, no realm in which they may be expressed.

"In Asgard, the gods said my mind was disordered. They convinced themselves that I possessed an instability that expressed itself in evil intent, and that it had been present for eons.

"Were they in their right minds to steal a child and raise him in ignorance of his origins, then treat him as inferior when he did not fit in? Were they in their right minds when they told him he was born to be a king, yet withheld the rights of a king from him?

"My life was created from disorder. They tried to impose their order on me and I rejected it. Hence, they called me insane."

He replaced the basin, talking all the while.

"They do not have psychoanalysis on Asgard. I learned of it from my mortal assistant on Midgard. He was required to undergo the procedure at frequent intervals, to assure his work was not taking a toll on his mind, so he believed. In truth, S.H.I.E.L.D. was not concerned about his mind. They wanted to assure he didn't lose sight of certain social values, that he wouldn't turn his skills on the general public, unless so ordered.

"In Asgard, talking is considered weak. Deeds alone speak and those actions that go against the king's will speak loudest -- depending on who is king, apparently. When you disagree with the king, you are evil or sick. In either case, the righteous would exorcise the demons of mental disorder from you, using pain. Sometimes a deviant such as myself gets a trial."

He stood motionless beside her, but she could tell he was seething with anger.

"This trial would never be a hearing by a jury of one's peers, as in your realm. Who among the gods has equals? They would never recognize me as having such equality, in any case. But I was not given even this trial. I was granted an audience for show. I was given no true opportunity to speak for myself or have my claims heard. I was sentenced outright to what should have been further madness."

His face was almost expressionless, except for the tight press of his lips, turned down at the edges.

It worried her that he made sense. It sounded like he had all these supposedly sane people lined up against him, and she knew that included S.H.I.E.L.D. and even Spike, but she wondered if they ever bothered to listen to him or try to understand him.

She had. She could see his point of view. He was raised to be a king. Maybe it would have been better if Odin had left him somewhere to be raised as a peasant, but he didn't. Loki had a destiny. She knew about that. She was a Slayer. She knew the burden that had been placed on her, the duty she had to fulfill. She knew about having no-one to talk to, no-one to share the burden with, no one to make sure you weren't losing it from the moral confusion and the stress.

If she talked about being a Slayer, people would have thought she was crazy. Buffy had her friends, but she didn't chat about Slaying with them. Buffy's mom certainly had a problem with Slaying from what Faith could tell. The people at the prison -- Faith couldn't even bother telling them. It would have been like T2, drug you up 'til you play nice.

Loki didn't even get the heavy drugs out of it. He just got isolation and blame.

She vehemently hated the Aesir. Most of all, she hated Thor and Odin.

Loki began to talk about what he felt were his options in dealing with the witch. He wanted to trick her, but he didn't know her well enough to figure out how.

Faith wished she could put her hand on his cheek and get him to focus on her. That always brought him back to center. He was spinning out of control, hysterical with emotion and the need to act.

He decided to agree to the witch's request, or at least appear to. He left Faith so he could negotiate. To Faith's surprise, he returned right away and said the antidote was prepared and could be administered immediately. He seemed peeved that the witch knew he would agree. He had the grimness of revenge set into his face as he lifted Faith to his chest and carried her to the witch's clearing in the wilds of Jotunheim.

It was a darker in the forest than around Loki's cave. Even weirder, the woods of Jotunheim seemed to have absolutely no wood in them. They consisted of stalagmites of ice-covered rock, set among passageways and pillars of black stone, surrounded by ice caves, all covered with a weird, goopy grey moss. Drifting, slimy mists caressed the stones and blanketed the ground. The cries of carrion birds echoed through the landscape. Faith thought she saw a large snake curve along the forest floor among the black chips scattered like leaves. If there had been any trees in this forest, they had long ago petrified.

She wondered if giants ate rocks the way Loki said trolls did. She couldn't imagine anything edible growing in this place.

Loki levitated her to a nearby cave. He placed Faith on a flat rock, secured furs around her, and yelled out their presence. A large blue creature strode towards him. She was bigger than the first giantess Faith had seen, and barely covered in furs, with lines on her body painted in red and gold. She was a much darker blue, like the crayon colored "midnight" Faith used to play with as a child.

Loki addressed the giantess with contempt, and was answered with the same tone. The woman handed Loki a chalice. After a few challenges, he drank its contents, glaring at her with hostility. She led Loki closer to the cave entrance, far enough away so Faith couldn’t see them, but probably close enough so that Loki could assist Faith if necessary.

She heard Loki's deep voice turn into pants, then growls. She heard violent tearing and scraping, thumps, and other sounds of a fight. That was followed by the push and gasp of no-holds-barred sex. They grunted and hissed and sounded like animals devouring each other on the ground. Then, light filled the cave as Faith heard the witch's roars of triumph, followed by Loki's hateful sob.

Shortly after silence fell, the witch appeared next to her. She was beautiful, though she carried a wildness that made Faith think of feral children living in junkyards. The giantess made some dismissive sounds as she looked at Faith. Loki responded in anger and threat. The witch grumbled an acceptance.

Loki told Faith he was going to lift her head and a cup would be held to her lips. She was forced to swallow a burning liquid that rushed through her body like wildfire. Then she felt only the softness of Loki's warming spell. It was like waking abruptly from a disturbing nightmare of non-ending pursuit and carnage to a bright morning of comfort and safety. Loki gazed into her eyes, searching for the acknowledgment that she was better and could move. She looked back at him and smiled.

He wrapped his arms around her in relief. She was able to move her arms to embrace him. Though she was very weak, she could feel the tide of strength returning.

Without a word to the witch, Loki spirited Faith back to his cave, and fell to examining her with obvious elation. When he was satisfied that she was fully released from the spell, he removed the catheter and caused it to vanish. He remained on his knees at the foot of the bed, his face turned away. "Can you forgive me...?"

She had trouble forming the words, but she persevered. "Everything you did, you did for me. I love you, Loki. I only feel love for you."

He began to cry, releasing a flood of emotion. All she could do was hold him and reassure him that she didn't blame him for anything, that he had taken good care of her, that she felt lucky to be with someone who stuck with her, no matter what.

Then he kissed her. His lips tasted like the berries in gin, like the tangy herbs of Spring and the dried fruits of Summer. She longed to kiss him again. She ran her hands over his strong body. He felt so good.

He apologized for asking her to live in the cave. He promised they would live in a palace soon.

"Don't need a palace," she told him. "Just need you."

He turned his body away. He was aroused and seemed ashamed of that. It was hard to miss: he was only wearing the short leather skirt.

She brought her hand down to circle his girth. Even if she had little strength, she wasn't going to give up one of the few things that brought her life. She needed him so much, it was like the pain of the poison had returned and only his touch could stop it.

Loki stammered, "I... I should clean..." A warm wet cloth appeared in his hand.

"Let me," Faith said. She unfolded the cloth and rubbed it along his shaft. His arms were so tense, one flex would have launched him off the bed. She would have taken him in her mouth to completely derange him, but she wanted him too badly.

"I won't hurt you, will I... with the venom?"

He replied in breathless gasps, "It is entirely gone. I fear there may be damage..."

"Shh... I don't wanna hear that now."

“I may still be under the potion’s spell. I may change...”

She threw the furs off of her and straddled him, taking him inside her in one glorious descent, gasping at his delicious coldness. He brought the furs back up and threw them over her as she rode him into the rock, taking as much of him as she could, trying to obliterate the hopelessness she had held at bay while she had been paralyzed, trying to fill the emptiness she had felt with the amazing reality of her lover, alive and exalting beneath her.

Then, her strength gave out. It never had before. She felt sadness creeping up on her, ready to overwhelm her.

Loki gently reversed their places, laying her on the bed. He delved deeply into her and that was what she needed, the drive to merge and be complete, to feed the fires of their desire for each other. She looked up and saw him lithe and powerful above her, and she was overcome with lust.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered. He lost his rhythm, and came with glorious purpose, only to bury his head between her legs moments later and finish her off with ravenous effort and barely attained gasps of air.

When she climaxed, it was like throwing off a yoke she hadn't been aware she was wearing. As clean blood coursed through her limbs, she felt free and whole.

Loki panted beside her. When he caught his breath, he told her, "Your skin burns against my flesh. There is warmth throughout you, and I burn to be near it."

He pulled the furs around her body and put his arm over her. They fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep for the first time since he brought her to the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two more chapters left.


	22. Sympathy for the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith gets used to Jotunheim. Includes sex between adult women.

She had no idea how long they'd slept or whether it was day or night. The wind blew outside the cave, as persistent as breathing. The blue gloom at the cave entrance sparkled with shards of ice, catching a ride on the air's turbulence. The air in the cave was still, as if a barrier had been drawn against the outside world. The cave was full of subdued twilight, though she couldn't tell where it came from.

Loki stirred beside her. He opened his vivid green eyes to smile down at her.

"What's to eat on this planet?" Faith asked. "I'm starved. Don't say apples. I can't believe you risked your life for those."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. Now he knew she'd been aware the whole time she was immobile.

He relaxed and seemed pleased with himself. "Those were not ordinary apples. They bestow perpetual youth and good health to the gods. I would e'er steal more to see you well and bright beside me."

"Perpetual, that's like forever, right?" She was a little overwhelmed. "If you want to pull a stunt like that again, I've gotta go with you to watch your back."

"You may watch it now." He sat up and turned to show her his broad back, smirking a little.

"Not bad," she said, resisting the temptation to run her hands over his muscles. "Can I see it in blue?"

He turned back and frowned. "I'd rather not." He was staring at her with a steady, humorless expression.

"But blue is amazing. Is that what all Frost Giants look like?"

"Our markings differ, and our coloring. I am smaller than even the smallest adult. But yes, it is the general form."

"You born blue?"

A furrow appeared between his brows. "I cannot see how Asgard would have accepted me had I been blue as an infant."

"Was our son...?" Unexpected grief swept over her. She clutched her stomach and began to sob. She buried her face in the bed as the heartbreak became too much to hold back.

Loki covered her body with his and held her. His deep voice confirmed, "One of our sons was blue. The other was as fair as you."

"Where are they now?"

"I burned their bodies, as is our custom. I am sorry you could not be there." His voice was solemn and subdued.

Despite the furs and the warmth of the cave, Faith felt a chill run through her body. It only made her unhappy, remembering the children now lost to her. Fortunately, she was too exhausted to think. Faith rolled into a ball and let the heaviness of Loki's body hold her to the rock. She could have been a speck of darkness in an icy blue universe, but he was there to keep her together.

Sometime later, Loki woke her by passing his cool fingers along her cheek, followed by a quiet kiss. Her eyes focused on his sensitive face and disarming smile.

"How fare you?"

"I'm tired," she said.

"You were earlier hungry."

"I was famished."

His forehead was lined with worry. "You should move about. Gather your courage. You have to fight to live in this world, my lady. Nothing here is easy."

Marshaling her strength, Faith rose from the bed. She had been immobile for too long. She knew that patients in a hospital had to move after an operation.

Her legs immediately failed and she would have fallen to the floor had Loki not appeared by her side and kept her standing. The furs fell to the ground. She was completely naked. Loki only spared her a quick glance. He waved his hand and dressed her in a green silk ball gown, patterned with tiny, gold, circular triangle things. The gown was embroidered at the edges with more Celtic designs in gold.

Faith gawked at the yards of silk. "What's this, Gala night at the Ancient Order?"

"Common garb for royalty in Asgard," he explained.

"Not very practical."

He sighed, and she found herself wearing jeans, boots and a tight sweater, a huge fur throw wrapped over her shoulders.

"Now you're spoiling me," she joked.

"That is my intention," he agreed, his eyes twinkling like a rascal, but underneath that, steady with kindness and concern.

The room had column-like lamps with flames in bowls at the top instead of light bulbs. There were fur rugs on the stone floor and tapestries on the walls. Whatever furniture he had broken earlier had been repaired. It was elegant, top of the line.

Loki supported her as she walked to a dining table that could have seated eight or more. It was covered with a linen cloth and gold plates. They looked like real gold. She blinked her eyes several times, but they still gleamed like a precious metal. The plates had engravings, words of some kind, and more Celtic designs.

"I brought food for you, delicacies from many lands."

The table was piled with fruits, roasted birds and fish, cheeses, and rolls of bread. Flagons of wine and beer and water sat at the center of the table."

She laughed weakly. "I can't eat all this."

"The Faith of Midgard bested me in many a meal."

She felt on the edge of tears again, but held them back. "Start me with bread and cheese. And wine."

He put a small plate full of food in front of her.

She drank the wine. It was fruity and spicy, mellow and thick, the easiness of summer in liquid form. It warmed her body and lifted her spirits. At the same time, she felt bad about drinking it, like it was disrespectful, like it was the cop-out her mother would have used to avoid facing reality. She didn't stop drinking, though.

Loki filled his plate and began to eat. He also began to talk, his movements exuberant as he warmed to his subject, which was Jotun politics. Faith listened, trying to understand. Mostly she watched him gesture as he spoke, like he was on a stage. Him being active made her feel at peace. He seemed engaged, if not exactly satisfied. She understood that moving ahead was important for Loki. He'd probably had too much looking inward in his life.

She interrupted him at one point to ask, "What was the woman's name, the one who cured me?"

Loki eyes raised with misgiving. "Why do you want to know this?"

"Just wondered. Maybe I'll send her a card."

"I do not know her name. It matters not," he said tightly. His mouth turned down in a glum expression. He picked up the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. Faith looked at the wine for a few seconds, then put it aside.

"Do you think she will have a baby?"

Loki's face was full of frowning disapproval. "You should not torture yourself with these questions."

"I just wondered."

His jaw moved with irritation. "It is certain she will have a child, and perhaps more than one. She is a skilled weaver of magic. She created a potion to assure my performance and guarantee children, even if I had not the power to grant her wish. But I do have that power."

Faith wondered how he managed to get it on with someone twice his size. It was like a Chihuahua crossed with a Doberman. Dogs made it work, though.

"Will you be a part of the kid's life?"

He got up from the table abruptly and walked to a small table with books on it, next to a large, throne-like chair. "I do not care to be a part of their lives. She is no more than a beast who lives in the forest and commands wolves and snakes. She lives side-by-side with death and has no sensible fear. Her children will be as her companions are now. It is what she deserves for forcing me to her bargain."

Faith began to feel uneasy. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I cursed any spawn that I and the giantess produce. They will not be the pretty, well-formed children she desired. I am not that, no matter what she thinks, and neither is she. We are monsters. Her children will be monsters, as well."

Even though Faith was shocked by the biting hatred in his confession, she still didn't know what it meant. "You're not a monster."

He shifted from his Asgardian shape to the blue form she'd seen before, except he was male, not female. His color was a dark and powdery azure. Ridged lines the color of midnight traced his muscles. His eyes, completely red, glowered like seething pools of lava, daring her to say he wasn't a monster.

"Go ahead and change your body. You can't change your heart."

"My heart for you may be different than it is for any other."

He shifted to human form, wearing a snazzy suit and a killer scarf. He still glared at her, through green eyes that blazed as hot as the red.

Faith remarked, "I dig the blue man look."

He scowled and went back to his seat. He conjured some candles and lowered the light in the cave. He filled his wine glass and held it aloft to toast her. He announced in a smooth voice, "To the one who does not find me to be a monster." He frowned again and downed the entire glass of wine.

Faith picked up her glass. She took a sip of wine and felt a little better.

Loki had fallen into a grumpy mood, looking at his plate, not looking at her.

She casually asked, "Where did you get all this food?"

She suspected he was putting himself in danger. To her amazement, he didn't try to tell her a story. He said casually, "It isn't sufficient to merely call oneself a king in one's realm. One must work for the good of its inhabitants. I visited other lands and offered them Jotunheim's resources in trade. I may have exaggerated the extent of those resources, but I am sure in time the output of the Jotnar will more than meet the demand. If it does not... I'll think of something."

"This ice planet has things that other places want?"

"It has an abundance of ice, of course, greatly in demand in areas that have depleted water resources. It also has an abundance of metals and minerals, furs and fish, fertilizer, raw energy from multiple sources, and warriors eager to prove their mettle in battle."

He spoke in such an off-hand manner that if she didn't know better, judging by his appetite, Faith would think all this was easy for him, just something he thought of for fun. She had to admire his work ethic. It was a lot better than hers had ever been. She kind-of wandered from one place to the next, doing whatever was needed. What was the pay-off for hard work and study? She never believed in the future.

"Will I get to meet these warriors?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Of course. You are my queen. You must meet your subjects. But first, you must grow strong."

"Loki, I don't know anything about being a queen. I basically raised myself. I don't have manners or, what's it called, state crap?"

"Do you mean state craft? And, my lady, you are already a queen, and a better one these beings would not soon find."

"You said I wasn't safe, the first time you brought me here."

A cloud passed over his face briefly, before he returned to his confident ease. "The giants will accept you. I will make certain of it."

Faith was full of doubts. She worried about disappointing him, about living in such a cold place, about not having anything to do. She was sad in a way she had never experienced. She thought she knew better than to count on anything good happening to her. Still, she expected to be living with her children on Earth, not wondering what she was doing in some cave in Ice Land.

Faith had lost all sense of time while she was incapacitated. She felt like she had been trapped in paralysis forever. It had been less than one Jotun week, with Loki growing ever more frantic that he would lose her and she more concerned that he would lose his mind.

The poison had left her body weak. She slept a lot and found it hard to move. She tried to be content to stay where she was, out of harm's way, but she was used to action, to confronting life head-on. At least, she had defied the Slayer's curse of a traumatic life and an early death. The future of the Slayers was safe with her on Jotunheim.

She also loved Loki and she wanted to help him, to give him the home and love, support and acceptance, that he gave her. But the stronger she got, the more he seemed to withdraw from that life. He stayed away from the cave, working on his plans for Jotunheim. When he came back, he was distant. Their sex life had ceased. He always said he was too tired. After a quiet meal, when he would tell her about his activities, he'd retreat into the pile of books he always had near his huge chair. He'd sit with his legs spread open. She'd long to run her hands up his thighs. She tried it once, however, and he left, murmuring something she didn't catch. While he was OK with brief hugs and they slept together on the large platform, he didn't want to be touched in any way that would lead to something more. She wondered what she'd done.

She used to think they were well-matched, her mercurial lover and she, a more down-to-earth realist. She felt they understood each other on a basic level, almost without words. Now she was uncertain.

One thing she did understand was Loki's desire for revenge.

"Do you think Thor knew what would happen to you when he used the net?"

"He knew not, nor did he care to learn. He was ever trusting of the All-Father's wisdom and dismissive of my concerns. It was why he was the favorite. Odin appreciates worship, not questions, which he discourages with the harshest disapproval."

"Don't you think Thor would be sorry if he learned what that thing did?"

"His mind is set against us, through the efforts of Asgard and S.H.I.E.L.D. He would not listen to me in Midgard, and he could only see me through his own interests in Asgard. He dismissed you with nary a word. When I think of how he talked to you..."

She gave him a wry look. "I'm used to it."

"That does not excuse his base conduct. No, Thor understands only action. Only action in kind will show him what he cost us. When he, too, has suffered, only then will he understand."

She was not a revenge freak, and she hated to think of Loki paying anyone back by imprisoning their body or killing their children. Still, she wouldn't oppose Loki. She just hoped he would postpone his revenge long enough so the pain became less sharp and the need less strong, that he wouldn't act in a rush, out of unstable emotion. Maybe his efforts to strengthen Jotunheim would indirectly lead to justice. To hear him tell it, most of the planets wanted to see Asgard fall.

And yet, when he spoke of Asgard, his eyes filled with light and wonder, and his words sang. He spun stories of its great beauty and bounty like a child reciting fairy tales. Sometimes, he forgot himself and said he would take her there to live in splendor. She knew that in his heart, he craved those bright halls. He complained that every other place was dim and small in comparison.

But those halls were not for him. Loki traveled dark and little-known paths to the other realms, usually in disguise or hidden. He promised to show her the worlds along Yggdrasil's roots when she was stronger. She looked forward to that, yet realized she needed to keep the cave a haven for her and Loki.

The cave was always warm, as Loki had promised. He made an artificial day and night for her. She suspected it wasn’t synchronized to Earth’s time. She rarely slept on Earth, but she could always sleep at “night” on Jotunheum. He said it was better for him, too.

Standing at the cave's entrance, which was protected from Heimdall's or Jotunheim's view, she looked over the blue and white expanse of the planet, over the vast, empty Plain of Valdís that stood between between the rugged, barren range she and Loki lived in and the more massive but smoother, pockmarked peaks where the majority of the Frost Giants made their homes, those that still lived.

Loki talked of the changes he was making on Jotunheim. "Laufey was a tyrant who kept subjects poor and divided. The warriors rely on their size alone, not on skill. Giants possess natural cunning, yet none have been encouraged to use it. Laufey's own adopted sons, the sons of his consort, were kept in check by the tale of my abduction, by the need to wait for my return. This was the only favor Laufey granted me, but it was done out of a ruthless desire to hold the throne, not out of consideration for my rights.

"It is convenient to have such needy subjects, starved of both thought and food. The men might otherwise prove a challenge. But I weary of their petty bickering and lack of intellectual achievement. In truth, the company of the women is more stimulating."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "I'll bet."

"Not in that way, although, since they have learned that Angrboda is pregnant, they do incessantly press me to service them."

Faith felt her breath catch in her throat. "Angrboda. Is that the witch?"

Loki became evasive. Of course he’d checked into the witch's pregnancy. "I lately learned her name."

"Have you seen her?"

"No." His voice was clipped. "I have heard rumors of her, however. She remains in the deepest forest, where few on Jontunheim roam."

"So, she's pregnant. With your child."

"More than one, as I hear through my sources."

Turmoil stirred Faith's heart. She knew how loyal Loki was to her and would have been to their children, but she worried that if she could no longer give him children, Angrboda would draw him to her with her kids. Faith had watched that Henry the Eighth show.

"How could I have been such a fool?" Loki let out a feral growl.

"You didn't have a choice. I don't blame you. I would have done the same to free you."

"No, it's not that," he almost wailed, but Faith didn't know what to think as a wave of emotions crossed his face -- anger, sorrow, helplessness -- before settling on frustration. "I should have asked her name, but once I heard her terms, I did not wish to know."

"Does her name mean something?"

"It means the destruction of Asgard! " His fists clenched by his side. "I never wanted to destroy the kingdom. I only wanted to make it pay for the evils it visited upon me and upon you."

Faith was puzzled. "I don't understand." One she admitted that, all the things that bothered her spilled out. "Sometimes I wish we had a normal life, like the one you talked about, where you come home after work and have a drink, play with the kids, gossip about the neighbors, go on vacation to some theme park. I don't get building nations and tearing them down. I don't think on that scale. I mean, you're amazing, that you get these things. But what do I have to offer you? I’m simple."

"What are you saying?"

Faith felt the world dropping away from her, but she held firm. "I’m no use here. On Earth, I had a purpose. Sure, I was a screw-up most of the time. I just don't know what I'm doing here."

Loki was concerned. "Faith..."

"I was trying to get my life together, before you walked into it. I wanted to change. You actually helped me change. We were going to be a family. But now, besides you, I've got nothing."

"Are we not a family? Am I not enough?"

"I don't want you to be everything, especially not if I'm going to lose you."

He appeared by her side and hugged her close. It felt so good to be in his arms. "You will not lose me. I give you my solemn oath."

"You have another family now."

"This is not yet so, but were it true, it would not lessen my affection for you." Loki gazed into her eyes and argued, "We have been through trials that no-one else can know, shared such sorrow and such hope as to bind us forever. No-one could stand in your place."

"I feel lost here."

Loki considered, then announced, "If you are able, I will introduce you to the court, such as it is. If this be successful, you will meet my brothers."

"What can I do at court? I don't have skills. I dropped out of school. All I had was being a Slayer."

"You were a champion of your people, and so you remain, a protector of the well-being of all Slayers. You cannot train them, but you keep them safe by keeping yourself safe."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"You may do whatever work you desire here. You can train the warriors, for I am certain you are far more skilled than even their most aggressive candidates. They will not appreciate being taught by a woman of Midgard, but it may spur them to use their wits and become better fighters, and it may again protect Midgard. The giants once sought to overrun that realm. They will learn this is not so easily done."

"I hate to be Whiny Winny, but... I was going to be a mother, Loki. That's not gonna happen, now."

"I do not accept that. I will find a way, if this is what you truly want."

Faith hated being useless and weak. She just couldn't brush things off the way she used to, with a quip, making believe everything was cool and she was bulletproof. She had changed.

Loki had changed, too, as Faith found out when he introduced her to his court, which wasn't at all like she expected. He took her through the sheet of ice that was like a mirror to what he called the King’s Hall. It was just a big ice cave with a few humongous guys standing around like they had nothing to do. There were no guards or troops. There were no decorations, no fancy drapes or gold chairs. His throne was carved out of a big piece of black rock.

Yet, when he sat on that throne, there was no question who was king. He stepped into authority as if he was born to it, which she supposed he was. He looked quickly at everyone, so they knew he knew them even if he didn't say their names. Then, he turned away like he had business to get to and couldn't spend time on them. He acted calm and stately, above the trivial concerns that others would use to try to drag him down. Some of the giants were three times the size of Loki, but as he stood above them on the platform with the throne carved out of the rock behind him, he seemed taller than the others purely in the way he held himself, shoulders back, body relaxed, face serious and unbothered. He talked to his subjects in a cold and precise manner, making pronouncements, never openly asking questions. He smiled as if he knew something they didn’t and their asking about it wouldn’t be smart. He acted like the obvious leader, the one who was listened to and followed.

He conjured a throne for her. A murmur went up from the floor. A few more giants appeared out of holes in the honeycombed cavern. The tall men milled around, eyes always glancing to Loki and Faith. To Faith, their expressions seemed less filled with awe and relief than jealousy and suspicion.

Loki issued an order to one of them, who bowed slightly, eyes always on Loki's eyes, before he turned abruptly and left.

Loki was in the male Frost Giant form, with green and gold medallions adorning his body like armor. The lines on his body weren't as deep as those of the other men, but they glittered with gold and green paint. He wore a short, deep green loin-cloth, with a gold belt above it. His ankles and wrists were circled by gold protectors. His hair was tied into a long tail. His crown was a gleaming headpiece with two large, gold horns rising from its front. A green cape from his Asgard uniform fell from ornate anchors on his shoulders and pooled at his ankles. As he looked down from his high position and his red eyes scanned the hall, Faith thought she'd never seen anyone who looked so majestic and fierce.

The giant returned with Loki's step-brothers, the children of Laufey's consort, Farbindi. The brothers were identical at first glance, but a second look told Faith that they differed in temperament.

Býleistr was a good-natured oaf who fell to his knees to get a closer look at Faith. He slapped her on the back in greeting, which nearly sent her flying off her feet. Loki treated Býleistr with a touch of contempt.

The other, Helblindi, bowed to her with smooth-sounding words but a hostile and dismissive stare. His knowing smile was the mirror of Loki’s, but it also held a sneering cynicism. Helblindi seemed untrustworthy to Faith, but Loki liked this brother more.

In fact, one of the things Loki told Faith he liked about Frost Giants was their lack of trust in others. They never took anything at face value. They always tested situations, made their consent provisional, and tried different ways to get at a solution. They never offered everything at once. They weren't transparent, trying so hard to please that you could walk right through them. Years of hardship and powerlessness, of an existence in the wilderness, as the captives of Asgard yet sharing none of its bounty, had made the giants wary. They had the reputation on Asgard of shapeshifting, of gender change, of deceit and jealousy, and if that wasn't enough to demonize them, of behavior closer to crude nature than refined civilization. They never had the "life in the sun" ease that other realms had.

Loki understood them. Even though he grew up in the most glorious of places, he lived in its shadows and traveled its back ways. The stability Asgard held out to him was always a false step, the first tip into a life spun out of control. The trick for Loki was to maintain control while his world spun, to make control look effortless. He learned to hide unnoticed in the dark spaces and move in the side-steps and -slips his magic made. In Jotunheim, the giants played the game of existing as if everything was fine, even though their world existed on the edge of collapse. Loki fit in this dangerous world.

Faith noticed the planet's physical collapse on her way to the cave where he was king. The platform sat amidst a landscape in ruins. It looked like someone set off explosives in the mountains, which all collapsed into rubble, or someone shot a giant ray gun at the planet, attempting to level it. Loki told her that half the population had been killed by Asgard’s attack, mostly men, who lived in the higher regions of Jotunheim, while the women hugged the ground in the forests. This was the world Loki wanted to rebuild. Faith thought that just getting the giants' attention focused on him was achievement enough.

She was impressed with all that Loki had accomplished. But when they returned home, he took off the mask of king as rapidly as he shed his Jotun skin. Even if he fit in Jotunheim, he didn't like it. He seemed to agree with the Aesir view of the giants as lazy and stupid. He confessed, "I do not enjoy ruling these limited creatures. They have been so long stagnant, so long removed from commerce, that they have lost the power to resist the influence of others or imagine a better existence, except as it relates to consolidating their power in this desolate place. Having to meet their kin and hear their small complaints -- it gives me no joy." His voice was low and bewildered, as if this was something he never expected.

Faith wondered what he did expect, especially since he was convinced he was better than almost everyone else. Faith thought he probably was better in most ways, so she never argued about it, though she might tease him. For some reason, he was used to being patient with those slower than him, but she knew it irked him. He was losing some of that patience now. She figured this was a byproduct of being a ruler who wanted change to happen right away, or maybe of not being the ruler he wanted to be.

Loki was someone who liked to set things in motion, but he was not set on those things ending in any particular way. In fact, he seemed delighted when his plans got complicated and difficult to achieve. He was far too in love with chaos to commit himself to any cause or person, except her, and even then, she wondered if he wouldn't welcome shifts in their relationship. The deadliest enemies to him were boredom and an inability to act.

"Maybe your brothers can help you."

"Those vile sponges?"

She smiled. "They _are_ your brothers."

"By happenstance."

"You got the same parent..."

"Who abandoned me to win a war that could not be won. And these so-called brothers are not related by blood. Their father lives still. He and his sons sought to thrive by Laufey's name, yet were too timid to claim the throne."

"Býleistr has the common touch. He doesn't seem to want power. He just wants to be liked."

"And eat," Loki grumbled.

"Make him your man up front."

She could see he was considering her idea, the million movements of his face betraying his thinking.

"Helblindi could connect the dots behind the scenes and do the dirty work. As long as you convince him that what you want is what he wants and he'll get ahead by supporting you, he'll help you... probably."

Loki looked at her with unabashed joy. "And you said you have no talent for statecraft!"

She grinned. "I know people. Wind those two up and let them go. They'll handle the realm for you. You just have to turn the wheel once in a while and point them where you want them."

Loki's comment gave her a little more confidence, and soon, she spent her days at Loki's side as he held court or visited Jotnar in their compounds. For the most part, she was an object of curiosity. She might have tried to show a different way for the Jotnar to live, men beside women, women training to fight, but she realized pretty quickly that she had nothing to show them. Jotun women had their own protections and their own power. The men thought they had it all figured out, pretending to be second-class Aesir. Even if she had something they wanted, she couldn't learn the language and she always traveled with Loki.

She decided she wanted to travel on her own. Loki didn't like that idea, but they reached a compromise. He wanted her to learn magic to protect herself. He believed, based on what Kronos said, that the spirit of Chimera would make it possible for Faith to learn spells. He already seemed convinced she had second sight.

He started teaching her the way his mother instructed him, learning to light a fire. He was practically dancing with excitement as they got started. They sat on the floor on a woven mat. He put what he called a brazier in front of them. It was like a small, cast iron fountain. Its feet were dragons raised to climb up the sides of the basin, into which their wide mouths opened. The bowl had lines inscribed in it, which Faith heard Loki call “ruins.” Otherwise, it was empty.

He explained that fire was always present around them, in the atmosphere, in the essence of things. One had to sense the fire, pull it out, and direct it to the brazier. Words could help direct the action, but words weren't necessary once the sense was developed.

He showed her how it was done, his nimble hands plucking at the air, then moving to fling the fire into the brazier, where it burned yellow without fuel. He said he could source many types of flame, blue or white, red or green, but yellow was the easiest to find.

They must have spent half a day trying to get her to sense the fire. She felt pretty hopeless. Naturally, he had to tell her he got it right away when he was a kid, the first time his mother explained it to him. Faith told herself that children had fewer hang-ups about failing, so it was easier for them to learn new things.

Loki didn’t complain about her slowness. He said he detected a change in the quality of the air, and that proved she had located the fire, though she didn't realize it herself. The air didn't smell different to her, although she did have a headache. She wondered if it wasn’t really him who found the fire, through wishing it to be there for her.

He taught her words that would call the fire to her command. That was a little more successful. She managed to sense increased heat near her. She managed to scorch the brazier, along with her hand.

"Never got a gold star in school," she announced, cradling her injured hand against her chest.

Loki summoned two shining, glass-like stones and rubbed them over the burn. They were surprisingly warm against her skin. Her hand instantly felt better.

"Nice jewels."

His face filled with a ironic smile. "They are magical objects, helpful for healing."

Faith knew magical objects. She had run across so many of them, they were like litter on the highway of her life. Still, almost everything she had seen him do, he did without objects. "So you can't do it all with your clever hands?"

His smile became slightly lopsided, like there was a private joke there. He explained, "Some things progress faster or more successfully with these tools. Some of these objects are immensely powerful. The Casket of Ancient Winters is such an object. The Tesseract is another."

"Did you get these from Asgard, too?" She wasn't sure she liked the idea of him traipsing around the place that wanted to put him in prison, or worse.

"I have had them in storage for some time," he assured her.

She remembered the fancy stick he had with the blue light, the one that told her she was invincible as long as she held it. She hadn't seen it since she saw the two giantesses.

"What does that spear-thing do?"

He got a cagey look on his face. "It enhances natural power, and focuses it. It acts as a weapon."

She knew he wasn't telling the whole truth, but she was more interested in what happened to it. "Where is it now?"

"I put it away. The Jotnar have heard about it and will not come near me if I hold it." The healers probably told the others about it. Or, maybe he moved it because he saw how it affected her. Whatever. She was glad it was gone.

Faith didn't think she had a knack for magic. She couldn't picture being anything like Willow or Tara, all sweet, no fists. But she was determined to be independent, so she practiced on one of the table lamps while Loki was out of the cave, hoping to at least raise some smoke. Eventually, in frustration, she flung the spell at one of Loki's books that landed with a heavy thud on her foot after she knocked it off the table. The book burst into blue flames. She had to throw her fur over it to put out the fire.

She hated that she destroyed his book, but he was so excited by her ability to do the spell, he acted like he wanted to frame the ashes. He ended up giving her four gold stars that dangled from a thin gold chain. They caught the light and blinked like real stars.

But first, he set about showing her how to move the ashes with magic. This was done by sensing the shape of the atmosphere and moving it. She wondered what else she'd have to destroy to learn that trick. She suspected only strong emotions were going to trigger her magical mojo.

Loki didn't care, though. He was like a kid again, free from his troubles, free to play with the toys he liked most, and playing with a person who was close to him, someone who appreciated him and all that he had to offer. It was an intimate space that he could share with her and no-one else. And for a change, he wasn't taking care of her as much as building a future with her. She couldn't remember seeing him so truly lighthearted since their time in the forest on Earth.

A good side effect of her trying to learn magic was that their sex life reignited. One day, she asked him to demonstrate some of the things he could do with magic that she hadn't seen. He ran through spells he could use for fighting, knowing she'd like those. He made knives appear, giving them great speed, causing them to explode on contact with a target. All she could think of was how useful his spells would be for a Slayer. She wanted to learn them right away.

"You must first learn to walk before you can run. You must learn to see the world before you can understand what you see or set off to look for treasure. You must learn to decipher words from general noise before you can compose a poem. It is the same with magic. In you, it has been a dormant sense. You must condition your muscles, understand the sensations when you perform magic correctly, and develop an instinct for it."

She’d seen him do some amazing things. She asked, "Is it hard to change sexes?" She hadn't seen him do that since she was released from Odin's poisoned prison.

"Shapeshifting is an advanced magic, but it is also innate to the giants. Jotnar are born with the potential, but require outside energy to strengthen their magic, and extensive training to hone their skills."

"When you turn into a girl, is that, like, all the way through?"

He seemed intrigued by the new direction in the conversation. "I may become a woman internally. I haven't examined myself to know, however."

Faith wasn't sure she believed that, but she offered, "I could check you out."

The devilish aspect came into his face, the dawning realization that fun could be had. "You would like me to become female?"

"Yeah!"

He watched her face carefully as he slowly turned into a brilliant blue girl with red eyes. But even with slightly increased curves and small breasts, he was still Loki. His body was filled with ridged lines the color of powdery, dark blue chalk on pavement. The lines looked like someone had taken a finger to wet clay to draw them. They ran over his body, tracing his muscles, ending in small brush strokes where the bones underlying the muscle ended.

Faith reached out to trace a line that curved along his stomach and ended at his leather skirt. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Encouraged that he wasn't shrinking away, she took her other hand and reached up to cup a small breast, her thumb brushing over the nipple. He opened his eyes, red and smoky with desire.

"Will you take me like this?"

She grinned from ear to ear. She'd take him any way he wanted.

She'd been with a few girls in her life. The first time had been with a long-distance trucker who gave Faith a lift. That woman was tough and not at all sentimental. She was also dominant, at least at the start. She taught Faith a lot. They rode each other across several state lines.

The trucker set the tone for Faith with women. Faith always made the first move, and she was the one making it happen all the way. Still, she wasn't great at seduction. With guys, she didn't need to bother. She made a hard press with Buffy, but that girl just didn't see it.

After that, Faith lost her confidence with women. Even though she put herself in a prison full of them, she decided she was bad for people, being a killer and all, so she laid off getting to know them.

That's what she was faced with: the need to be the one to drive the truck, to maybe show Loki how it was done with girls, but not dominate him to the point he'd go off her, not freak him out so much he'd close down on her.

She wondered what his experience as a girl had been. It was hard to tell with him. There was surface Loki always in control, giving nothing away, then there was the Loki underneath, laughing at the fools who couldn't see beneath the surface, looking out to make sure it was OK to be known, probably desperate to be seen all along. It was hard to know which Loki she was looking at now that he was female. But she figured sexual Loki always had to be the real one.

So, she toed out of her shoes, dropped her pants, pulled her sweater over her head, and stood there in her underwear. Then, she just froze. He looked like a fourteen-year-old girl, shy and innocent, even with his red eyes and arch smile. His arms crossed awkwardly in front of his body. He put all his weight on one foot, letting the other nudge it demurely. Faith was having sex at fourteen, but Loki's whole attitude just screamed out "underage virgin."

He noticed that she was hesitant. Covering up even more of his body, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Can you age yourself up a little? I feel like I'd be robbing the cradle of a newborn baby."

If the expression bothered him, he barely showed it. He changed before her eyes into an older woman with a rounder figure, larger breasts, bigger hips, and shapelier legs. The hair that had been tied back fell loose around his shoulders in black waves. The face that had been full of roundness regained some of the hollowed cheeks and sharp cheekbones Faith was used to seeing.

She walked up to him. He was as tall as usual. She kissed his cool lips. They were the ones she knew, maybe fuller. His kiss was the same, like he was sharing a secret so dirty and scandalous, she didn't want him to stop telling it. His chuckle was a little less throaty.

Faith got even closer to his body and nipped a ridge along Loki's collarbone up to his neck. Loki squirmed and started breathing erratically, laughing nervously to cover it up. As Faith licked her way to his ear, she took one of his breasts in her hand. It was full and heavy. Closing the space, she took the other breast. She caressed them as she sucked on his neck, hearing him breath in a sigh.

He still tasted like winter and snow. He was so much softer, though, not the hard edges of ice, but the sustaining lift of a fresh snow, the sleek fullness of ripe plumbs kept in the icebox. Faith couldn't wait to have her hands all over her girl.

Still sucking on his neck, Faith put her arms around Loki's slender waist and walked him over to their bed. Laying him down, she began kissing and licking him down the ridges lining his slightly-round stomach, hands on his full hips. She moved one hand to his skirt, over the top of his mons. He moaned in a soft, breathy exhalation. She could feel the blood pulsing under her hand, his upper legs tightening with nervous energy, relaxing, then tightening again.

As Faith sucked his stomach over his hip bone, she moved her hand to the back of his skirt and lifted the bottom, grabbing and rubbing his much rounder ass. His legs parted slightly, then closed nervously. Her other hand rubbed up his body and brushed against the nipple of his breast until it was hard, then moved to the other breast to stroke his other nipple. Once it stood taut, she moved her hand to trace along one of his body's lines to the fastening on his skirt. At the same time, her other hand slipped between his legs to circle his inner thigh. Loki's breath caught in his throat, then issued in a small whimper between harsh gasps and moaned half-words.

She fumbled at the skirt, which Loki helped remove, and there he was, an accurate woman from what Faith could tell, soft blue folds ridged with perpendicular lines instead of hair. She kissed him on the top of his pubic bone and down the V to his inner thigh. She took her hands and spread his legs. She ran her hands up and down his inner thighs, up to where they met his legs. He shivered at her light touch. She could feel him tingling under her fingers.

She brought her face on top of his slit and blew warm air on him. "Let me see," she requested. He moved his legs apart slightly. "More," Faith commanded. She wanted him to reveal everything.

He was a dark lavender flower, glistening and sensitive, flesh reflecting the pounding of his heart and the anticipation of her touch. The trembling of his legs increased as his clit, hidden from view, began to swell red.

He smelled of the sea and the earth, more of a suggestion than an overpowering statement. He smelled of musk, a rich perfume, like a furnace coming on in a cold room, like brown bread baking in a deep oven, like summer fruit buried in an ice cave. He smelled of sex in a wintery land, where there was nothing to do but rut in silken furs while storms raged outside.

Faith's fingers traveled up to touch the short lines on the puffy surface of his labia. His shaking became more violent. "Try to relax," she suggested. She kissed and licked the short lines, making her way to the top of his slit. But she had to stop. Just like the first time she was with him as a man, Loki was too tense.

She brought her head up to kiss and lick the inside of his hip bone. His legs had closed again. She put her fingers flat on the mound surrounding his slit and moved them back and forth, applying pressure. She felt him tense, relax, tense, relax, as if he was having an inner monologue, trying to follow her instructions. Whenever he tensed, Faith nipped him with her teeth. When he relaxed, she kissed him. It didn't seem to change his reaction. He liked a little pain.

Faith kissed her way between his legs. She used her hands to pull his lips apart, then took the tip of her tongue and ran it along one inside fold. Loki was almost hyperventilating, so she stopped altogether and slid her body along his until she looked him in the eyes. Loki whined in protest.

She kissed him, taking off her underwear and wrapping her body around his. They kissed and pressed against each other for a long time as Faith kneaded his ass, brushing her fingers along its inner course. Loki grew more deranged with want, until he was grinding against her and making noises that were only outlines of words. She probably could have done anything to him, but she was keeping it gentle and easy, making sure he was comfortable with what was going on. She had enough trouble holding back her own responses. She was moaning and grinding as much as Loki was.

Finally, Faith ran her hand back between his legs and worked her fingers into the warm space between them. "Open for me," she asked, looking into his unfocused eyes. There was so much trust in that face, so much desire. This time, Loki spread his legs wide for her, desperate to be touched.

Faith ran a finger along Loki's insides. He jumped as if shocked, then moved his legs to trap her hand, his body surging closer. She could feel the energy pooling underneath her finger. "Tell me if I do something you don't like," she asked. He couldn't even make a strangled reply.

She worked her fingers further along the fullness of his slit, exposing the wet ridges and canyons. He was slick and surprisingly warm. He got that part right. She wondered if he used her as a model. Faith thought it was funny that he'd bother just to pass as female. She was glad he did. He was perfect as he quivered and roiled like a sea serpent beneath her.

Faith made small circles along the tight pull between his clit and his vagina, her other hand at the top of his slit, moving him up and apart. He became very still and stopped breathing except to make small "oh" sounds. She could feel the tension building throughout his body, but she wasn't ready for him to come just yet.

She drove the fingers of one hand into his wet channel. She intended to pump him hard, up and down, but she hit some kind of barrier, so she pulled back, feeling a little confused.

He'd started saying her name interspersed with pleas, becoming increasingly incoherent, so she got back on task. She put her thumb just below his clit and held it there. He jumped again in response. She took slippery fingers and slid them along the cleft towards his ass, circling on the pucker as she began to lick his fold in long lathes. She finally pressed his clit with her tongue.

That pushed him through the barrier, his body seizing up in magnificent jolts, her every touch causing more gasps and explosions. Faith reveled in his body's reaction, its revelation. She held tight to him as he rode through the last of the waves. She held him as his heartbeat slowed, his breathing calmed. She held on to his wonderfully soft and pliant body as his world cleared.

She was looking into his beautiful face, still female, but still recognizably the person she loved. He smiled back at her and gave her a full body hug, putting both his arms and legs around her to hold her close. It was not something a man would have done, which made her love him even more. He rasped out, "It is your turn?"

"All you have to do is touch me, I'm so turned on right now."

Faith placed his finger on her clit and she surged into deep shudders, pressing herself against his hand.

They fell into each others' arms and instead of sleeping, started talking. As a joke, Faith motioned to a fur to come to her hand, and it actually moved. Sex, like strong emotion, made it easier for her to use magic.

Loki was thrilled. They talked for hours under the furs, Loki again explaining the theory of magic to Faith. As she held her lithe blue creature in her arms and listened to his soft voice, as she drank in the excitement that burned in his red eyes, she thought he was the coolest person ever.

Faith had her groove back. Loki was always female when they slept together, and strangely, always Jotun, though he always shed his Jotun male aspect as soon as he could. Faith loved him either way, but she felt they grew closer when he was female. There was less he had to pretend about, more he could share.

She'd had boyfriends. Loki had become much more than that. She never had a girlfriend before, someone to just relax and hang out with, someone who would mostly get her without explanation. Now she had that. It wasn't just sex or his amazing body. It wasn't just the girl parts. He was authentic all the way through, always uniquely Loki, and hers.

She couldn't complain about the sex, though. He was as curious and open-minded as ever. One time, he brought out the dildo they had used once. She was a little hesitant to use it again, because she remembered how he had been after the first time. She asked him where he got it. He moved his hands across each other and, voilà, there was her suitcase.

"Did you go back to Earth to get that?" she asked with alarm.

"A long time ago."

"What's happening back on Earth?" A wave of homesickness swamped her.

"It still exists," he said in a wry manner, trying to hide the watchfulness in his eyes.

She wanted to return, an ache in her soul that made everything else seem unimportant. But she pulled herself out of it, concerned that he, once again, placed himself in danger to get something for her.

"You didn't need to go back to get that. I'm sure you could have made another one."

"I don't make things per se. I rearrange, hide, and summon what is already there. As for this," he hefted the bag, "I placed it in an interdimensional pocket, a place I use to store items of value." He waved his hands again and the suitcase disappeared.

"Oh," she exclaimed as it vanished. Her suitcase wasn't really that valuable.

Then he waved his hands and it reappeared, along with a smug look on his face.

"I want to learn how to do that."

He dropped the suitcase and ran the dildo between his fingers. "I was hoping you could show me how to do something first."

Loki talked a lot about magic, how it was another sense like seeing or hearing, how you could be born with an ability but had to learn how to use it to make sense of the environment. Once you learned the rules, you could start to manipulate the environment, to even change it. Humans were low on the sensory scale of everything compared to other creatures. The spirit who gave her strength, however, had been high on the scale of magical and sensory ability.

Loki told her that most of the goddesses on Asgard learned magic from an early age. He mentioned his mother again, who he said was one of the best. He had learned from her. Faith realized this probably isolated him, in some ways. In a society the way Loki described Asgard, a man learning magic must have seemed like a girl.

Most of the witches she knew on Earth were women. There were men who practiced magic on Earth, but they almost all seemed to be after power. They were dangerous. Giles had been different, but he wanted power at one time, too, before he grew up and took on the responsibility of looking after and training a Slayer. Women seemed less concerned about power over others and more concerned about knowledge for its own sake -- like Loki, she thought.

She just wasn't feeling the magic. It took so long to learn one thing, and it never felt natural to her. She kept working at it because it would be a good to know when she went back to being a Slayer. It also made her different from the Frost Giants, who could no longer do the kind of magic Loki did.

The more she saw Loki practicing magic, the more she realized how much it meant to him. It was one of the few things he was passionate about, but it was more than that. It was his way of creating, of having fun and making his impact on life. It also created a safe place for him where he could express himself, where he could control his world. And it was something he could give to her that was useful, that gave her control in her life. She realized he never should have been separated from his magical power, and understood why he would do anything to get it back. It gave him meaning the way being a Slayer defined her. It made him worth something. It made him special.

Loki already believed she had the gift of clairvoyance or seeing into the essence of things, perhaps even seeing into the future. He and his mother were able to communicate across vast distances using their minds. He believed Faith could do that, could do a lot more than she actually felt she could do. He reminded her she had the untapped power of the Titans. She could rule universes if she wanted.

She didn't want to rule anything. As for seeing long distances, she didn't tell him she had Chimera for that. The goddess visited her dreams more frequently now that Faith had tapped into magic. The problem was, all Chimera showed Faith was the Slayer potentials being cut down one by one, no longer able to defend themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was difficult to decide which pronoun to use for female Loki, but the story is from Faith's point of view and she has mostly experienced Loki as male.
> 
> One more chapter.


	23. An Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly, the end. Warnings: If you know the fate of Loki's children in myth, you know their fate it this story.

No matter how bad Faith failed at sorcery, Loki didn't stop believing she could do better. She was pretty much resigned to never being a master of magic. It always took her hours to make smoke, let alone find fire. She could only move light things like feathers, and no more than an inch before they collapsed along with her patience. It still took strong emotion for her to exercise any magic. Super-strength, super-agility, fighting and killing, all these had been easy for her, no-brainers. Magic was like schoolwork. Faith though she would probably never travel in Jotunheim on her own.

In a way, that was fine with her. She was so wrapped up against the cold when she accompanied Loki on his visits, she doubted anyone could see her. Giants were forbidden to touch her skin to prevent frostbite, so she never shook their hands or reached out to them. They were naturally reserved, anyway, like Loki. From their hostile and arrogant stares, Faith got the feeling the giants resented her. She wasn't tall, she couldn't withstand the frigid temperatures, and she didn't even try to speak their language. And yet she, who was so unworthy, who had no magic or legacy, was the chosen mate of their king. She had no friends on the planet besides Loki.

She had explored the cave she and Loki occupied and found it bleak and cold, too. Only their living space and a bath area beyond it were heated. Faith tried to think of the cave as a loft with a sauna, but the bathing room was really a grotto with a stream of cold water running into and out of a heated pool. The room was lit with colored lights that reflected off the pool, making the space feel like a disco after closing, the emptiness holding the fading echoes of a good time.

The rest of the cave consisted of flat spaces with ceilings so low she had to stoop or crawl to get through, all connected by dark, narrow passageways. She never found anything else living there, not even in the streams that crisscrossed her path.

When she wasn't on visits with Loki, she trained at fighting and attempted to do magic, She was bored and lonely, especially when Loki traveled.

He continued to build the strength of his kingdom, having found success trading its raw materials to other realms. He used most of the wealth he obtained to rebuild devastated areas and start education and agriculture projects. The giants began to prosper under his rule. However, they had little use for the material things prosperity brought, except for gold. The kingdom has been in ruins for so long, the giants had adjusted to living in caves or foraging in the forests. The Casket of Ancient Winters once made the building of cities an easy task. Loki's building projects were viewed with suspicion. The giants also had no interest in learning about the Realms beyond the stories they already knew, so his attempts to establish education were ignored. The men only wanted to train to fight and pillage. They didn't want to farm fish or livestock. The women wanted to continue their arts and raise warriors and witches, but not share their knowledge or learn the ways of other lands.

When the giants' simmering eyes turned on Loki, Faith saw jealousy and scheming. He must have seen it, too. His magic and experience of the Nine Realms, especially Asgard, were probably the only things that kept the giants in order, but without allies and against many, he would have been no match for them if they organized. He couldn't count on his brothers, either; they were just along for the ride and were only influential as long as they were connected to him.

He did not invite outsiders to Jotunheim. This was for protection, but Faith thought he might have exaggerated the majesty of his kingdom to them, or maybe he was just discouraged. He told her if the other realms could see the lands he claimed to rule, they would laugh. There was no honor in being king of a fallen people.

Loki still talked about bringing her on his trips to some of the other realms. He maintained that Faith was a natural at statecraft. It was news to her. She had never played well with others. The giants were no exception. She was a human they believed had no magic and no physical power. She had both, but her magic was iffy and her stature was smaller than a Jotun child. She was from a race the rest of the Nine Realms despised.

Before their first planned trip, Loki received word that Angrboda was about to give birth. She asked that he be present.

"What favor does she want to wrench from me now?" Loki growled.

"We should go."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You would visit her?"

"They're your kids. You have to take responsibility for them. But she's gotta know you're with me and that's not gonna change."

His fine features moved in thought, considering Faith's words. Sure, he threw his hands up and rolled his eyes, acting put out by the whole thing, but Faith could see the beginnings of an excited smile, the glimmer of intrigue in his shifting eyes. He had been thrilled about having children with Faith, confident of his ability to be a good father. She couldn't blame him if he wanted his children with Angrboda to be happy and secure. She couldn't deny him the chance to know his kids. If, as Loki said, the mother was a monster, that wasn't the kids' fault. It made it more important to have a good parent to protect them and show them how to deal.

Loki carried her in a whirlwind to Angrboda's cave. Instead of traveling as a Jotun king, he went as a regent of Asgard, wearing layers of leather and ornate metal. He even wore his horned helmet.

The forest was more creepy than Faith remembered. She heard the high cries of wolves and the heavy breathing of large animals searching the ground. Very little was visible in the clinging mist, only the outlines of twisted rock formations. It was beautiful in a haunted graveyard way.

Angrboda had already given birth by the time Faith and Loki arrived. She sat on a rock platform, attended by a midwife. The new mother took up a lot of room in the big cave. Faith thought she would never get used to how massive the giants were. Angrboda seemed to be as big as two elephants trunk-to-tail.

Loki hung back at the cave entrance, his gait uncertain. Faith wondered if there was some ceremony or gift she forgot, but tough luck if she hadn't followed Jotun tradition if Loki hadn't told her what it was. She strode into the cave.

The midwife, bent over a low, hollowed-out rock surrounded by boulders, turned her head at Faith's movement. The giantess leapt up and attacked, hurling her large body towards the tiny, alien intruder.

Faith reacted on instinct, throwing off her furs and hitting the blue woman in the solar plexus with an upward motion of her head, using both feet to pummel an exposed instep. The giantess fell roaring to the ground. Loki appeared by Faith's side with a large knife, almost a small sword, in his hand. He held it against the midwife's throat. He uttered a low warning as a sliver of silver light sliced the air above the knife.

Fortunately, Angrboda did not want to pick up the midwife's challenge. After she glowered at Faith with violent red eyes, she broke into a grin full of wicked sharp, white teeth. She barked a few words to the midwife, who put her hands over her head and rolled away, standing to leave the cave with a sullen slouch.

Angrboda sat up in her bed with her shoulders back, naked except for a scrap of leather pulled around her hips. She was a cobalt woman who had long black, curly hair that surrounded her shoulders and fell to her waist. This gave her some modesty, but it was not intentional. Giants felt no shame in displaying their bodies. In fact, it was a point of pride that they could withstand the harshest conditions without needing protections of any kind. They protected the family jewels, of course. That was probably something all human-type creatures did. For the rest, instead of clothes, giants accentuated their bodies with pigment and gold, and sometimes jewelry made of gems and leather or gold.

Angrboda motioned with a generous gesture to the rock crib next to her bed.

Faith had seen lots of demons. On Earth, giants might be considered demons, enormous ones. Still, these kids tipped the scales of ugly-scary. They didn't have any soft, round baby cuteness or cranky sleepiness. They were wide awake, their eyes already open and watchful. They were all each the size of a full-grown St. Bernard. 

There were three of them. One was covered with black hair and had a long face, long and boney limbs, the beginnings of teeth, and pale red eyes. One looked like a segmented dragon from a Chinese New Year's parade, having heavy eyelids that opened and closed on deep red eyes, feathered gill-like things around its neck, and a long, blue-and-green, almost scaled and glistening, body, with only rudimentary legs and arms. One looked like a ghost from a Japanese horror film, like half of her had died in the womb. The other half was definitely Loki's daughter, pale-blue and delicate-looking, with an engaging yet serious face, a cap of black hair, and dazzling eyes that shifted from red to green and back.

Their mother beamed at Loki, pleased with her unusual brood. Loki looked like he was in shock, frozen at the cave entrance, not knowing what to do. Angrboda spoke to him, a booming, demanding sound. He focused laser-like green eyes on her, then turned away without saying a word. He held his head at a haughty angle, not looking at her. He might have been putting on a superior front, but Faith could tell he was wary of the witch.

He seemed conflicted about the kids, too. Faith went back to the cave entrance and took his hand, leading him to the hollowed-out rock. He stepped up to the crib and reached out tentatively, but didn't touch the babies. Instead, his hand gripped his leg, like he was steadying himself.

Despite its size and feral appearance, Faith couldn't help but reach in and touch the furry one, who was obviously a boy. His body was cool, like Loki's, not extremely cold. She hefted him into her arms. Fortunately, Faith's strength had returned, so lifting him was no trouble.

She held the wolf-child close to her. Instead of crying, he yipped. She kissed him on the forehead and smoothed her hand over his back. His eyes closed, as if he was dozing, but as soon as she stopped rubbing him, his eyes opened and he started fussing in her arms and whining.

She saw Loki watching her with unease. She wondered if he'd ever handled children. She'd known lots of pregnant girls where she grew up. She spent many hours passing around babies.

She told Loki how to position his arms and handed the boy to him. The kid looked ridiculously big in Loki's arms, but he was secure. Loki peered at the baby, who blinked a couple of times, staring back as if trying to memorize his father, then fell fast asleep. Loki looked at her helplessly, so Faith took the baby back and placed him in the crib, where he continued to snooze.

The crib was appropriately gigantic. Faith crawled into it to get to know the other babies. She pulled Loki in after her. She got him to magically remove his armor so he could get closer to the children. He hugged himself, like he was naked without armor, but he wasn't going to impress newborns by being hard. She wondered if Odin had ever been soft with him.

She picked up each baby in turn and handed it to Loki, who held it, his face split between confusion and pride, until he grinned with broad glee and she knew he had bonded with his child. Even though they were just born, they took to him, relaxing in his embrace, reflecting his curiosity and joy in their searching eyes. The normal part of the girl's body even changed from blue to white-pink as he held her, and one eye turned a deeper green. He flashed a brilliant smile when this happened. His daughter had his magic.

Young as they were, they already had distinctive personalities. The furry boy was inquisitive, demanding, and energetic, even a little uncontrollable. He squirmed as Loki cradled him. He reminded Faith of Loki's mischievous side, and possibly the dangerous side it wasn't advisable to cross.

The spooky girl was calm and measured in her responses to her new world, taking it in as if she would one day rule all the creatures within it. She reacted to her father as if they were equals, gazing back at him without concern. In his arms, she was the picture of Loki sitting on Jotunheim's throne.

The long, snaky child was lazy, barely raising its head to take in its surroundings, content to loll around and doze, especially when held by Loki. The only thing it showed any enthusiasm for was its mother's milk. Faith didn't see Loki in this child at all, but Loki must have. He lifted it high over his head and grinned with amazement.

Faith had known Loki would come around to loving his children. Angrboda seemed to have known this, too. She reached out to Faith as if to thank her. They bowed their heads to each other at the same time, which caused them both to start laughing. Faith thought she might grow to like Angrboda.

The midwife returned to bathe the babies in a cold pool outside the cave. Loki freaked out, saying they should stay inside at all times. He made a pool for them at the back of the cave, similar to the one he and Faith had in their bathroom, if less fancy and deep, and without heated water. The infants took to it as if they had been born in the water, especially the long one. Loki stayed by the pool watching like a hawk while each child was washed, dried with furs, wrapped with more furs, and placed in the crib.

She and Loki stayed several hours, Loki sitting in the crib, gurgling and making faces at the babies, watching them sleep, soothing them when Angrboda put them down after feeding. Faith thought he was better with them than she was. At some point, she became more interested in getting to know the adults, Angrboda and her midwife, who turned out to be Angrboda's sister.

When Angrboda talked, however, Loki did his best to ignore her. Finally, Faith asked him to translate. This was difficult as he didn't operate on the level of people speaking different languages. He just knew what everyone said and was able to make himself understood. All-Speak was a form of telepathy that overrode verbal sounds,but it wasn't magic he could perform on her. It was inherent to being raised in Asgard.

Loki had translated before, however, in Africa, and he got the hang of it again.

In translation, Angrboda thanked Faith for Loki's role in giving her children. Faith thought that was weird, like Loki was Faith's property or something. Faith responded that he made his own choices, and she, Faith, was grateful that he chose to save her life. Angrboda replied that the only thing she regretted was the circumstances. Faith thought it was peculiar to talk about Loki like he wasn't there, or maybe it was his translation that was off. She didn't respond.

Loki seemed to barely register the apology, if that's what it was. He pretended to be busy with his children. Faith saw him draw his lips together in a grim line as he translated, rejecting the witch's words. Faith was ready to forgive Angrboda. Loki wasn't. She chalked it up to male pride.

Faith asked Angrboda about their names. After he translated, Loki looked at the witch fully for the second time that visit, his mouth set, his green eyes steely. The new mother showed her teeth and bellowed something short.

"You may name them anything you wish."

"For real?"

He explained, "Jotun choose their own names at adolescence, when they leave their mothers, when they used to choose their sex."

Faith gave an amused grin and touched each child, choosing its name as she did. The furry boy was Fennie because he was like the rascally pup an old boyfriend found tied up and starving, but unbroken, in Fenway Park. The long baby was Jordan because he reminded Faith of a flowing river. The Ringu girl was Helen because that always seemed like a dignified name to Faith.

Loki's eyes stayed on her as she named the babies. They filled with increasing sadness. "I forget that your greatest magic is as a seer," he finally said.

"Is it something I can learn to do on purpose?"

He smiled ruefully. "It is a gift that might bring more sorrow than pleasure."

In Faith's experience, a person never turned down a gift. Like being made a Slayer: maybe Buffy acted as if it was a more of a burden than a present, but Faith never felt that once. Gifts had always been good for her.

She and Loki left Angrboda's cave as the forest darkened even more. Faith was amazed that a place on Jotunheim had an actual night. Loki explained it had to do with distance from the realm's two suns, which kept most of the planet illuminated at all times. Giants had so little comfort in their lives, they tried to stay in the light as much as possible. The females had fled for protection to the forests where darkness fell, bringing dangers only darkness could.

Back at their home, Loki collapsed into his chair.

"Boss kids, huh?"

"They are," he replied. He buried his head in his hands. "But what have I done, my Faith? They will never be free. They will never find happiness." He shook his head in disbelief. 

Faith came over to her troubled lover. He rarely seemed satisfied in those days. "They are happy now, and free. Why would that change?"

"You can see into the essence of things. Can you not see their futures?"

"I see that they have a mother who loves them. I like them, too. I know you do."

"Love will not protect them."

"What else will? I mean, sure, they're different, really different. But they can still grow up to be something really special."

"They will be different in the way I am different. There are none like me. I live between two worlds and belong to neither. This is what they will face, a life of separation, a life of isolation, a life alone."

"You call this alone?" Faith ran her hands along her sides and canted her hips to the side.

He responded with a flat, "I was alone for thousands of years before I met you."

"I was alone, too, but they're not. They have us. They have each other."

"Do you really believe that we can trifle with Fate?"

"What fate? Look at me. I should be dead, but instead, I'm with you. You didn't plan it. You planned to use me and get away Scot free. But things are not set in stone. Anything could happen. These children can have good lives."

"My lady, forgive me, but it was fated that I meet you, conceive two sons with you and see them suffer a horrible end at the hand of Odin."

Faith was almost too shocked to reply, but she couldn't believe what he said. "No, that was someone else you were supposed to meet, not me."

His haunted look told her he wasn't convinced. "I cursed them," he stated, "as surely as I am cursed."

"No, Loki," Faith insisted, trying to reassure him. It only seemed to make him more despondent. She put her arms around him and held him close. She felt he was too smart to believe in fate. She was confident Angrboda believed in the kids, at least, and that was a start.

Faith and Loki visited the children every day. Loki put more of the responsibility for ruling Jotunheim on his brothers. He kept the job of ambassador to other realms, but always delayed the trips he said he had to make.

Loki appeared to his children in male form, both Jotun and Asgardian. He was patient and fun with them, while Angrboda was stern and commanding. Faith just enjoyed seeing them grow and change. They grew up fast. Loki said the harsh climate demanded quick development. It was thrive or die on Jotunheim. Each child thrived. Each was as fearsome as its mother and as sharp as its father, a melding of powerful nature and civilized grace. Faith came to see them as uniquely beautiful, not monstrous.

Even though she couldn't communicate in any easy way, Faith liked Angrboda. Loki began to distance himself from her when she told him that, taking refuge in his books at night or visiting his brothers.

She was wondering why he couldn't accept Angrboda as a friend when she speculated that all he could say to her was, "Congratulations on the children you got by forcing me to have sex with you."

Someone should have kicked her in the head, she felt so stupid. She realized he had been forced to have sex with someone he didn't want. He'd been raped. He even agreed to take a rape drug to make it happen. Though he didn't express those feelings, it was obvious in the way he looked at Angrboda, the stiff distancing, the sullen frown. She wondered how he could even stand to be in the same room as her. Yet, he agreed to visit her after the birth, solely to be with his children.

How hard that must have been for him. Being a man from Asgard, he probably couldn't admit it happened, maybe not even to himself. To admit it bothered him would be to admit he was weak. He acted like he was born to survive anything, but she knew he'd given up at least once, convincing himself giving up would be a relief to everyone. That he turned that despair back into anger did not mean he was out of danger. How many other times had he given up, or given in to keep the peace?

Faith was suspicious that Angrboda wasn't the first time he'd been assaulted, but he'd kept quiet about anything that happened earlier. Maybe it was a complicated family relationship like the one he had with Angrboda. She remembered how he'd been after Montana, withdrawn, mistrustful, caught in a turmoil of emotions with no way he felt he could express them except by lashing out or shutting down. And there was probably no way she would ever know what had happened to make him that way.

Yet, in the time Faith had known him, he wasn't someone to take being hurt lightly. He could take a lot, but in the end, he stood his ground and fought back any way he could. The exception was Thor, who he had tried to trick, not injure. Loki probably wanted to tear the giantess in two. Yet, he didn't. She was the mother of his kids, no matter what he thought about her.

Faith felt terrible that he let himself be used for her sake. Who knew how he felt about Faith getting to like Angrboda? He never wanted to talk about the witch, only the kids.

Faith realized that even she jumped him when he still had the potion in his system. He tried to tell her. She didn't listen, she wanted him so badly. Did she rape him, too? That was too painful to think about.

But Faith had done worse. She slept with Buffy's boyfriend when she was in Buffy's body; just to steal some of Buffy's smug happiness. She would have killed Xander with rough play just because his saving people thing pissed her off. She'd been full of hatred for Buffy and her gang. She thought they only pretended to be her friends but never really liked her. Truth was, she didn't like herself. She couldn't even think about she did to Wesley when she wanted to finally end it. She had done worse things than Angrboda, and for worse reasons.

She feared she was still the same damaged person who had attacked all those people. She feared she had become another burden to Loki, another thing he had to carry on Jotunheinm. He was so busy trying to take care of everything else, but she had to complain and make certain that included her. On top of that, she hadn't been grateful.

He never said anything, either. Maybe it was because she expressed dissatisfaction in such a dramatic way, which he interpreted as asking him to take care of her needs, when he could have asked her for help and she would have given in it a heartbeat.

"Loki, I know you sacrificed a lot to take care of me, and who else would have done that? Only you were strong enough. I mean, you gave up your choice to do what you wanted to do with your own body."

His expression tightened with apprehension. He turned his face away from her.

She continued, blundering along. "You did that for me. I'll never be able to repay you for that..."

"There is no need to repay me," he objected, getting up to busy himself at the table by his chair.

Faith was furious at herself for turning the focus back on her. She was no therapist, for real. She had no idea what to say to him, or whether she should say anything at all. Maybe he just had to process it himself, with her being there for him.

"I want you to know that I understand how difficult that was for you, and the fact that you were forced to make such an awful choice, and that you did it for me, well, I'll always love and respect you for your bravery and ability to keep going and make a difference ... and, I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just that I love and respect you, and I always will. I mean, I just really admire you."

He looked troubled, his forehead in ridges, his mouth in a down-turned pout, but all he said was a sincere, "Thank you."

Faith thought that was a good thing. He wasn't trying to make excuses or pretend nothing happened. He had taken in what she had to say and, hopefully, realized she meant it.

"And, if you want me to kill Angrboda, just say the word."

He looked at her in confusion, then his expression cleared and he smiled ironically. "She is the mother of three perfect children. Only she is suited to raise them to live in this world. I am not ready to dispose of her quite yet."

"I can stop dropping by her place, if you want. I don't need to be her friend."

He looked away while she spoke, restacking some books. "I am glad she and you have found common ground. Your presence makes visiting much easier for me. It removes the need for me to be more attentive than I might otherwise have to be. Your being there is important to me."

That made Faith feel a little better. He needed her support.

"It is also important, for the future of these children, that they know they have concerned parents from multiple realms, parents who will not lie to them or hold them back in any way."

"They're the best," Faith agreed. Since she was on a roll, she ventured, "The first night, when you brought me back from her place, well, I practically jumped you..."

He interrupted, "You were under a potion's spell, as was I. Our desire could not be helped, but I do not regret it. I am, in fact, relieved that the potion's workings had mostly waned by then, or I would have torn you apart to be closer to you."

That sounded kind-of fun, but for a change, she didn't express what was in her head. Instead, she walked up to him and simply said, "I'm sorry."

His green eyes burned with a myriad of emotions. "Odin's curse was the greater evil, my lady. You would have sacrificed your happiness for my sake had I been under its spell."

"In a hot second."

She cringed at her poor choice of words, but he only looked at her with appreciation.

She put her hand inside his. "I don't like it when someone hurts you."

His head hung so low, he was practically talking into his chest. "You seem rather convinced of my virtues."

"I love you."

He smiled in a weary way. "I know. But you are flawed, so I have read, so you have told me. We are two flawed creatures, hiding in the dark."

"I don't feel like I'm in the dark with you."

"You would have us all in the dark, without Fate to guide us. For my part, at least I have learned never to enter a room without knowing how to exit it."

She stood on her toes and kissed him. "Good."

One day, while Faith played in the crib with three enthralled infants and the bright silver rattles Loki pulled out of some dimension, Loki and Angrboda surprised her by getting into a long, business-like conversation. Faith thought she heard her name mentioned several times.

When she and Loki returned to their home, he told her, "Angrboda has said that she will join us."

"Join?" Faith looked around the well-furnished cave and tried to imagine Angrboda's immense bulk in it. "She's moving in?"

"We will form a union."

That information didn't help. There was no industry in Jotunheim. Then it dawned on her.

"Union is marry, right? Is this a proposal? Is she a priest?" She was surprised how relieved she felt. "Of course I'll marry you."

He smiled wistfully. "You don't understand. She is asking that we three, ah, marry, if you like."

"That sounds, um... She seems all right, but I don't really know her."

Loki was smiling at the roundabout conversation. "It is merely a ritual, where we swear loyalty and become family to each other. It is nothing more than that."

"Well, three is better than two..."

He grew more serious. "With this ceremony, I will have not only a blood bond with my children, but a magical bond as well. You will be a part of that. We will be a family." Loki looked at her with his frank sweetness. "It's a great honor to be recognized by Angrboda in this way. Jotnar do not often form these attachments."

"Will we live together and sleep together?"

"No, though that may happen someday, should you and I choose."

She was still finding the whole idea completely strange.

"The ritual will bind us more closely to Angrboda and the children. When one of us is in trouble, the others must help. If one of us becomes disabled, the others must render care. If one dies, the others must provide for those who remain. It is a simple arrangement." He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Things will not change between us."

"Except for the magical, ritual bond."

"It will apply between you and I, too. I should think you would welcome this."

"I don't need a ritual to be able to trust you, and you know I'm always gonna be on your side. I wonder why she suggested this now."

"I suggested it," Loki informed her in an off-hand manner. "Angrboda agreed."

"You could have talked it over with me first."

"I only thought of it in her dwelling." Faith figured he'd thought of nothing else for days, but only mentioned it in the cave. "Angrboda speaks of returning to the forest when the children can move about on their own. Because Fennie and Jordan already swim with ease, the day of her departure nears. With this bond, I will be able to locate them. I will be freer to visit and they will know that I am their father and you their other parent. In case there is ever a need to transfer our roles, it will be easier to effect."

"What are you planning, Loki?"

"Nothing evil, I assure you. That will come from Asgard, as it always does. Angrboda is in danger, yet she allows her children to play in the open and there she calls them by my name: Loki's Wolf, Loki's Serpent, Loki's Queen. I have warned her, yet she dismisses my concerns. I believe you know better."

Faith thought of those in Asgard who felt they had the right to judge others and exact barbaric justice against them, no matter how helpless they were. She thought of Odin, who felt he could steal a baby from its home. She thought of Thor, who would only believe the worst of his brother. She knew the Aesir feared the giants. She thought of the three babies, terrible in appearance to those not used to them, but too young to be monsters or anything but innocents. Loki's warning had her worried for them.

Loki added, "Angrboda did save your life."

"For a price."

"She has paid a price, too." She knew he was referring to the odd-shaped babies.

"I want to think about this."

"Yes, of course," Loki assured her.

She knew it meant a lot to him, however, so as she sidled up to her sweet girl in bed that night, she said, "All right, but I want a small, private ceremony. No big deal with everyone on Jotunheim in attendance."

He smiled and agreed. "The fewer who know of this, the better. Tiny minds filled with fear would hinder the children's growth. And should we have children of our own, I may want their succession to be uncontested." Faith had the feeling the smallest ceremony possible was what he intended all along, "Besides, the tales of my virility are already an affliction for me."

"Don't you mean viral?" she asked.

"I can be both."

The day of the ceremony, Loki was jovial, goofing around with their outfits, preening in front of the mirror, telling her a story about a wedding where the man was dressed as the bride. She couldn't remember seeing him so animated. He dressed her in the way the giants dressed. He said it was out of respect for the ritual. Having her physical attributes on display in the Jotun kilt led to a lengthy delay in their departure, but eventually he brought Faith to Angrboda's cave. Despite his warming spell and a huge fur cape, she was shivering in the small leather skirt and nothing else but a spear and an axe. She was surprised at how good it felt to be out of the house with weapons in her hands.

The air in the witch's cave swirled with red and yellow smoke, pungent and cloying. Angrboda stood in the center of the space. Loki led Faith towards her, to stand inside a circle that looked as if it was painted in blood.

Angrboda's sister came out of the shadows and placed the three children in the circle, then stepped away. She chanted words as the smoke whirled around them. The circle ignited into dancing yellow flames.

Angrboda cut her hand with a knife. She handed the knife to Loki, who cut his hand. He handed the knife to Faith, who was beginning to wonder what she was doing. Even so, she'd already agreed, so she cut her hand. Angrboda brought her hand together with Faith's hand, which had to be a tenth the size. Loki added his hand, which fit comfortably beside hers. Faith recognized this as becoming blood brothers, something kids did, cutting fingers and pressing them together. They were supposed to be bound for life. She didn't think such a simple gesture really meant anything.

Apparently, however, that was the end of the ceremony. The fire blew out, the smoke dissipated, and the giantess, who made tiny Faith feel like a pet, stepped out of the circle. Giants did not display a broad range of emotions, but Angrboda seemed more at peace than usual.

The transformation in Loki was more startling. He glowed, as if he had found a purpose for his life. His Jontun blue skin seemed to be electric, his red eyes neon. He reached down to his children and touched them in wonder. They looked at him with total acceptance. His smoldering eyes gazed at Faith as if he had never really seen her before. Faith wondered if he was tripping on something. Good thing she stayed straight.

Loki said a few words to Angrboda and left with Faith. When they returned to the cave, Faith understood why he had to leave. He wanted her and he could not wait.

He wanted her in every way he could be, which meant Faith was holding her human-looking husband one minute, then looking up at a Jotun woman, grappling with a large snake, feeling the scratch of a bird's wings, or sensing an essence around her that she couldn't see. At one point, more than one Loki surrounded her, celebrating their union with wide smiles. All his forms were focused on her with ardent desire, all open to her touch, all wanting to be known.

She never changed, though she felt more aware of Loki than she ever had before. She was the center to which he held, the one capable of holding such a creature in flux, the one strong enough to love him.

When the cave's artificial morning rose, both of them were hoarse and aching but satisfied.

He looked at her with fierce intensity. "You are my wife," he said, "and there is none like you, none to hold me, none to accept me, none to fight for me as you do."

She smiled up at him. "You're my husband, and man, nobody gets me, or satisfies me, or cares about me for who I am the way you do."

She hadn't seen his tears in a long time, but now they sat on the edge of his eyes. "Family is all I have ever wanted," he confessed. She threw her arms around him.

They stayed in the cave for several days, until Faith awoke with a start. Loki sprang up beside her. They looked at each other in growing fear.

Loki transported them to Angrboda's cave. The midwife lay slain in the center of the floor. Angrboda lay injured on her bed, her head crushed and bleeding. The children were gone.

"Asgard," the witch rasped when she saw Loki.

Faith was filled with fury, wanting to attack. Loki's face sank.

Angrboda reached out to Faith. "Glut," she said.

Loki reacted with alarm and said something about Glut, but the light in Angrboda's eyes dimmed and her body fell slack.

Loki just sat and stared at the dead giantess.

Faith felt as hollowed-out as he did, but she said, "We have to find our children." She knew this surely as she knew his heart and his guilt for leaving his family unprotected, for his heart was now hers, as was his family. She knew the children were still alive, but they had been separated and were very afraid. She had no idea what Asgard had done with them.

"Yes, we will search." Loki didn't move.

She put her hand on his arm. "Is Glut the one who did this?"

He seemed dazed. "No."

"Was it a clue?"

Whatever it was sent him into a tailspin, but he merely responded in a distracted manner, "She said you bear the fire."

Faith remembered the fiery pain of Odin's poison with apprehension. "What does that mean?"

He seemed bewildered. "I'm not sure." His wide eyes surveyed the wreckage of the cave, seeming lost and afraid. "Faith, I must return you to Midgard."

"We have to find our kids!" Maybe it was the marriage bond talking, but all she wanted to do was search for them and bring them to safety. Finding them was as necessary to her as breathing, as being with Loki, as mourning Angrboda.

"I will search for them."

"Not without me."

He was as miserable as she had ever seen him, and as desperate. He murmured as if he was talking to himself, trying to convince himself, "It is not safe to know me, especially if you are one I love. Whether my wife, my mother, or my innocent child, Asgard has determined that all attached to me shall suffer or die for the mere fact of my continued existence. They will not rest until they've destroyed everything. I must destroy them first."

Faith looked at Angrboda's body, the blood now frozen on her face. "I'm in."

His eyes focused on Faith for the first time. They were devoid of hope, yet set with determination. "I cannot ask you to bear this curse. I could not bear to see you injured again, nor could I bear to lose my children again."

"I can fight, Loki. It's what I do. I'll always fight for us. I'm better off with you. We are a family. We need to stay together. You _know_ that."

"It's too late." His face threatened to dissolve into tears.

He encircled her in his arms and held on as if she was his last connection to life. Then he generated a vortex that carried them away.

They landed in a well of darkness. She knew he meant to abandon her there. Knowing that filled her with the worst pain she had ever felt, made worse by the fact she knew he felt it, too. It was like someone had ripped her heart in two, had torn her soul from her body. She knew her mind would go next.

Loki wrapped his arms tighter around her, and she held him with even greater resolve to not let go. He whispered some words into her ear and she felt their family bond dissolve, as easy as a scarf slipping off her shoulders. The pain stopped. It was replaced by emptiness, like she was suspended in the Void with no point of reference.

She dropped her arms, and he left her, murmuring "I'm sorry," as he turned away and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this isn't a happy ending (yet). Loki and happy endings -- not a canon OTP. Same with Faith, at least currently.
> 
> However, I have a further story building in my head, a continuation of this. I will probably write it when November rolls around.
> 
> I had fun writing this. The story changed a lot over the course of revising it. I wish I had had a beta, but, alas. Many thanks to everyone who commented.

**Author's Note:**

> Faith is an extrapolation of the BtVS and _Angel & Faith_ character through "Daddy Issues." Loki is an extrapolation of _Thor_ and _The Avengers_ , with a bit of _Thor: The Dark World_. There is fractured Norse mythology throughout. I will write a second part of this story in November, 2013, and probably begin posting again in January 2014.


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